THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Aline  Revere 


POEMS 


HENRY    WADSWORTH    LONGFELLOW 


COMPLETE  IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOLUME   H. 


BOSTON: 
FIELDS,    OSQOOI>,    &    CO., 

SUCCESSORS  TO  TICKNOR   AND   FIELDS. 

1869. 


Cnti  rf'l  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  I860,  bj 

IlESRT  W.   I/OSr.flLLOW, 

la  the  Ork's  Office  of  tbe  District  Court  of  the  District  <A 
Massachusetts 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS: 

WELCH,    BIT.KLOW,    AND   COMPANY, 

CAMBRIDGE. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  IL 

EVANGELINB 

MM 

Part  the  First 6 

Part  the  Second 89 

THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND. 
The  Golden  Legend 7» 

HIAWATHA. 

Introduction 231 

I.    The  Peace-Pipe 235 

•      II.    The  Four  Winds 240 

III.  Hiawatha's  Childhood 248 

IV.  Hiawatha  and  Mtidjekeewis 255 

V.     Hiawatha's  Fasting 263 

VI.  Hiawatha's  Friends 271 

VII.  Hiawatha's  Sailing 276 

VIII.  Hiawatha's  Fishing 280 

IX.  Hiawatha  and  the  Pearl-Feather 287 

X.  Hiawatha's  Wooing 295 

XI.  Hiawatha's  Wedding-Feast 303 

XII.  The  Son  of  the  Evening  Star 310 

XIII.  Blessing  the  Corn-fields 320 

XIV.  Picture-Y/riting 827 

XV.  Hiawatha's  Lamentation 332 

XVI.  Pau-Puk-Keewis 338 

XVII.  The  Hunting  of  Pau-Puk-Keewis 345 

XVIII.  The  Death  of  Kwasind 355 

XIX.  The  Ghosts 356 

XX.  The  Famine 365 

XXL  The  White  Man's  Foot 870 

XXII.  Hiawatha's  Departure 877 


634532 


THE  COURTSHIP  OP  MILES   STANDISH. 

FA01 

I.    Miles  Standish 389 

II.     Love  and  Friendship 394 

IN.    The  Lover's  Errand 400 

IV.    John  Alden 409 

V.    The  Sailing  of  the  May  Flower 417 

VI.     Priscilla . 425 

VII.    The  March  of  Miles  Standish 431 

VIII.     The  Spinning-Wheel 437 

IX.    The  Wedding-Day 443 

Holes Ml 


EVANGELINE, 

A   TALE    OP   ACADIS. 

1847. 


TOI.  n. 


EVANGELINE. 

THIS  is  the  forest  primeval.  The  murmuring 
pines  and  the  hemlocks, 

Bearded  with  moss,  and  in  garments  green,  indis- 
tinct in  the  twilight, 

Stand  like  Uniida  of  eld,  with  voices  sad  and 
prophetic, 

Stand  like  harpers  hoar,  with  beards  that  rest  on 
their  bosoms. 

Loud  from  its  rocky  caverns,  the  deep-voiced 
neighbouring  ocean 

Speaks,  and  in  accents  disconsolate  answers  the 
wail  of  the  forest 

This  is  the  forest  primeval ;  but  where  are  the 

hearts  that  beneath  it 

Leaped  like  the  roe,  when  he  hears  in  the  wood- 
land the  voice  of  the  huntsman  ? 
Where  in  the  thatch-roofed  village,  the   home  of 

Acadian  farmers, — 
Men  whose  lives  glided  on  like  rivers  that  water 

the  woodlands, 
Darkened  by  shadows  of  earth,  but  reflecting  an 

image  of  heaven  V 
Waste  are  those  pleasant  farms,  and  the  farmers 

forever  departed ! 
Scattered  like  dust  and  leaves,  when  the  mighty 

blasts  of  October 
Seize  them,  and  whirl  them  aloft,  and  sprinkle 

them  far  o'er  the  ocean. 


Naught  but  tradition  remains  of  the  beautiful  vil« 
lage  of  Grand-Pr6. 

Ye  -who  believe  in  affection  that  hopes,  and 

endures,  and  is  patient, 
Ye  who  believe  in  the   beauty  and  strength  of 

woman's  devotion, 
List  to  the  mournful  tradition  still  sung  by  the 

pines  of  the  forest ; 
List  to  a  Tale  of  Love  in  Acadie,  home  of  the 

hippy. 


PART  THE  FIRST, 
i. 

IN  tho  Acadian  land,  on  the  shores  of  the  Basin  of 

Minas, 
Distant,  secluded,  still,  the  little  village  of  Grand- 

Pre 
Lay  in  the  fruitful  valley.    Vast  meadows  stretched 

to  the  eastward, 
Giving  the  village  its  name,  and  pasture  to  flocko 

without  number. 
Dikes,  that  the  hands  of  the  farmers  had  raised 

with  labor  incessant, 
Shut  out  the  turbulent  tides ;  but  at  stated  seasons 

the  flood-gates 
Opened,  and  welcomed  the  sea  to  wander  at  will 

o'er  the  meadows. 
West  and  south  there  were  fields  of  flax,  and 

orchards  and  cornfields 
Spreading  afar  and  unfenced  o'er  the  plain ;  and 

away  to  the  northward 
Blomidon  rose,  and  the  forests  old,  and  aloft  en  tho 

mountains 
Sea-fogs  pitched  their  tents,  and  mists  from  tho 

mighty  Atlantic 
Looked  on  the  happy  valley,  but  ne'er  from  their 

station  descended. 

There,  in  the  midst  of  its  farms,  reposed  the  Aca- 
dian village. 
Strongly  built  were  the  houses,  with  frames  of  oak 

and  of  chestnut, 

(5) 


6  EVANGELISE. 

Such  as  the  peasants  of  Normandy  built  in  th« 

reign  of  the  Henries. 
Thatched  were  the  roofs,  with  dormer-windows; 

and  gables  projecting 
Over  the  basement  below  protected  and  shaded 

the  door-way. 
There  in  the  tranquil  evenings  of  summer,  when 

brightlv  the  sunset 
Lighted  the  village  street,  and  gilded  the  vanes 

on  the  chimneys, 
Matrons  and  maidens  sat  in  snow-white  caps  and 

in  kirtles 
Scarlet  and  blue  and  green,  with  distaffs  spinning 

the  golden 
Flax  for  the  gossiping  looms,  whose  noisy  shuttles 

within  doors 
Mingled  their  sound  with  the  whir  of  the  wheels 

and  the  songs  of  the  maidens. 
Solemnly  down  the  street  came  the  parish  priest, 

and  the  children 
Paused  in  their  play  to  kiss  the  hand  he  extended 

to  bless  them. 
Reverend  walked  he  among  them ;  and  up  rose 

matrons  and  maidens, 

Hailing  his  slow  approach  with  words  of  affection- 
ate welcome. 
Then  came  the  laborers  home  from  the  field,  and 

serenely  the  sun  sank 
Down  to  his  rest,  and  twilight  prevailed.     Anon 

from  the  beliry 
Softly  the  Angel  us  sounded,  and  over  the  roofs  of 

the  village 
Columns  of  pale  blue  smoke,  like  clouds  of  incense 

ascending, 
Rose  from  a  hundred  hearths,  the  homes  of  peace 

and  contentment. 
Tims  dwelt  together  in  love  these  simple  Acadian 

farmers,— 
Dwelt  in  the  love  of  God  and  of  man.    Alike  were 

they  free  from 


EVAN  GEL  DTE.  7 

Fear,  that  reigns  with  the  tyrant,  and  envy,  the 

vice  of  republics. 
Neither  locks  hail  they  to  their  doors,  nor  bars  to 

their  windows; 
But  their  dwellings  were  open  as  day  and  the  hearts 

of  the  owiiers ; 
There  the  richest  was  poor,  and  the  poorest  lived 

in  abundance. 

Somewhat  apart  from  the  village,  and  nearer 

the  Basin  of  Minas, 
Benedict  Bellefontaine,  the  wealthiest  farmer  of 

Grand-Pre, 

Dwelt  on  his  goodly  acres ;  and  with  him,  direct- 
ing his  household, 
Gentle  Evangeline  lived,  his  child,  and  the  prido 

of  the  village. 

Stalworth  and  stately  in  form  was  the  man  of  sev- 
enty winters ; 
Hearty  and  hale  was  he,  an  oak  that  is  covered 

with  snow-flakes ; 
White  as  the  snow  were  his  locks,  and  his  cheeks 

as  brown  as  the  oak-leaves. 
Fair  was  she  to  behold,  that  maiden  of  seventeen 

summers. 
Black  were  her  eyes  as  the  berry  that  grows  on  the 

thorn  by  the  way-side, 
Black,  yet  how  softly  they  gleamed  beneath  the 

brown  shade  of  her  tresses ! 
Sweet  was  her  breath  as  the  breath  of  kine  that 

feed  in  the  meadows. 
When  in  the  harvest  heat  she  bore  to  the  reapers 

at  noontide 
Flagons  of  home-brewed  ale,  ah  I  fair  in  sooth  was 

the  maiden. 
Fairer  was  she  when,  on  Sunday  morn,  while  the 

bell  from  its  turret 
Sprinkled  with  holy  sounds  the  air,  as  the  priest 

with  'iis  hyssop 


8  EVAXGELESTE. 

Sprinkles  tho  congregation,  and  scatters  blessing! 

upon  them, 
Down  the  long  street  she  passed,  with  her  chaplet 

of  beads  and  her  niissal, 
Wearing  her  Nornun  cap,  and  her  kirtlo  of  blue, 

and  the  ear-rings, 
Brought  in  the  olden  time  from  France,  and  since, 

as  an  heirloom, 
Handed  down  from  mother  to  child,  through  long 

generations. 
But    a    celestial   brightness  —  a   more    ethereal 

beauty  — 
Shone  on  her  face  and  encircled  her  form,  when, 

after  confession, 

Homeward  serenely  she  walked  with  God's  bene- 
diction upon  her. 
When  she  had  passed,  it  seemed  like  the  ceasing 

of  exquisite  music. 
Firmly  builded  with  rafters  of  oak,  the  house  of  the 

farmer 
Stood  on  the  side  of  a  hill  commanding  the  sea, 

and  a  shady 
Sycamore  grew  by  the  door,  with  a  woodbls«j 

wreathing  around  it 
Rudely  "carved  was  the  porch,  with  seats  beneath ; 

and  a  footpath 
Led  through  an  orchard  wide,  and  disappeared  in 

the  meadow. 
Un  ler  tho  sycamore-tree  were  hives  overhung  by 

a  penthouse, 
Such  as  the  traveller  sees  in  regions  remote  by  the 

road-side, 
Built  o'er  a  box  for  the  poor,  or  the  blessed  imago 

of  Mary. 
Farther  down,  on  tho  alope  of  tho  hill,  was  the 

well  with  its  mo3s-grown 
Bucket,  fastened  with  iron,  and  near  it  a  trough 

for  the  hor3C3. 
Shielding  the  hou* e  from  storms,  on  the  north,  were 

the  bams  and  the  farm-yard. 


EVANGELISE.  8 

There   stood  the  broad-wheeled  wains  and   the 

antique  ploughs  and  the  harrows ; 
There  were  the  folds  for  the  sheep ;  and  there,  in 

his  feathered  seraglio, 
Strutted  the  lordly  turkey,  and  crowed  the  cock, 

with  the  selfsame 
Voice  that  iu  ages  of  old  had  startled  the  penitent 

Peter. 
Bursting  with  hay  were  the  barns,  themselves  a 

village.    In  each  one 
Far  o'er  the  gable  projected  a  roof  of  thatch ;  and 

a  staircase, 
Under  the  sheltering  eaves,  led  up  to  the  odorous 

corn-loft 
There  too  the  dove-cot  stood,  with  its  meek  and 

innocent  inmates 
Murmuring  ever  of  love ;  while  above  in  the  variant 

breezes 
Numberless  noisy  weathercocks  rattled  and  sang 

of  mutation. 

Thus,  at  peace  with  God  and  the  world,  the  far- 
mer of  Grand-Pre 

Lived  on  his  sunny  farm,  and  Evangeline  governed 
his  household. 

Many  a  youth,  as  he  knelt  in  the  church  and 
opened  his  missal, 

Fixed  his  eyes  upon  her,  as  the  saint  of  his  deep- 
est devotion ; 

Happy  was  he  who  might  touch  her  hand  or  the 
hem  of  her  garment J 

Many  a  suitor  came  to  her  door,  by  the  darkness 
befriended, 

And  as  he  knocked  and  waited  to  hear  the  sound 
of  her  footsteps, 

Knew  not  which  beat  the  louder,  his  heart  or  the 
knocker  of  iron ; 

Or  at  the  joyous  feast  of  the  Patron  Saint  of  the 
village, 


10  EVANGELINE. 

Bolder  grew,  and  pressed  her  band  in  the  dance 

as  he  whispered 
Uurried  words  of  love,  that  seemed  a  part  of  the 

music. 
But,  among  all  who  came,  young  Gabriel  only  was 

•welcome ; 

Gabriel  Lajeuucsse,  the  son  of  Basil  the  black- 
smith, 

Who  was  a  mighty  man  in  the  village,  and  hon- 
ored of  all  men ; 
For  since  the  birth  of  time,  throughout  all  ages  and 

nations, 
Has  the  craft  of  the  smith  been  held  in  repute  by 

the  people. 
Basil  was  Benedict's  friend.    Their  children  from 

earliest  childhood 
Grew  up  together  as  brother   and  sister;   and 

Father  Felician, 
Priest  and    pedagogue  both  in  the  village,  had 

taught  them  their  letters 
Out  of  the  selfsame  book,  with  the  hymns  of  the 

church  and  the  plain-song. 
But  when  the  hymn  was  sung,  and  the  daily  lesson 

completed, 
Swiftly  they  hurried  away  to  the  forge  of  Basil  the 

blacksmith. 
There  at  the  door  they  stood,  with  wondering  eyes 

to  behold  him 
Take  in  his  leathern  lap  the  hoof  of  the  horse  as  a 

plaything,  _ 
Nailing  the  shoe  in  its  place  ;  while  near  him  the 

tire  of  the  cart-wheel 
Lay  like  a  fiery  snake,  coiled  round  in  a  circle  of 

cinders. 

Oft  on  autumnal  eves,  when  without  in  the  gather- 
ing darkness 
Bursting  with  light  seemed  the   smithy,  through 

every  cranny  and  crevice, 

Warm  i)y  the  forge  within  they  watched  the  labor- 
ing bellows, 


EVANGELINE.  11 

And  as  its  panting  ceased,  and  the  sparks  expired 

in  the  ashes, 
Merrily  laughed,  and  said  they  were  nuns  going 

into  the  chapeL 
Oft  on  sledges  in  winter,  as  swift  as  the  swoop  of 

the  eagle, 
Down  the  hill-side  bounding,  they  glided  away  o'er 

the  meadow. 
Oft  in  the  barns  they  climbed  to  the  populous  nests 

on  the  rafters, 
Seeking  with    eager  eyes  that  wondrous  stone, 

which  the  swallow 
Brings  from  the  shore  of  the  sea  to  restore  the  sight 

of  its  lledglings; 
Lucky  was  he  who  found  that  stone  in  the  nest  of 

the  swallow  1 
Thus  passed  a  few  swift  years,  and  they  no  longer 

were  children. 
He  was  a  valiant  youth,  and  his  face,  like  the  face 

of  the  morning, 
Gladdened  the  earth  with  its  light,  and  ripened 

thought  into  action. 
She  was  a  woman  now,  with  the  heart  and  Lopes  of 

a  woman. 
"Sunshine  of  Saint  Eulalie "  was  she  called;  for 

that  was  the  sunshine 
Which,  as  the  fanners  believed,  would  load  their 

orchards  with  apples ; 
She,  too,  would  bring  to  her  husband's  house  delight 

and  abundance, 

Filling  it  full  of  love,  and  the  ruddy  faces  of  chil- 
dren. 


Now  had  the  season  returned,  when  the  nighta 

grow  colder  and  longer, 
And  the  retreating  sun  the  sign  of  the  Scorpion 

enters. 


IS  EVAXG  KLINE. 

Birds  of  passage  sailed  through   the  leaden    air 

from  the  ice-bound, 
Desolate  northern  bays  to  the  shores  of  tropical 

inlands. 
Harvests   were  gathered  in;   and  wild  with  the 

winds  of  September 
Wrestled  the  trees  of  the  forest,  as  Jacob  of  old 

with  the  angel. 

All  the  signs  foretold  a  winter  long  and  inclem- 
ent 
Bees,  witli  prophetic  instinct  of  want,  had  hoarded 

their  honey 
Till  the  hives  overflowed  ;  and  the  Indian  hunters 

asserted 
Cold  would  the  winter  be,  for  thick  was  the  fur  of 

the  foxes. 
Such  was  the  advent  of  autumn.      Then  followed 

that  beautiful  season, 
Called  by  the  pious  Acadian  peasants  the  Summer 

of  All-Saints! 
Filled  was  the  air  with  a  dreamy  and  magical  light; 

and  the  landscape 

Lay  as  if  new-created  in  all  the  freshness  of  child- 
hood. 
Peace  seemed  to  reign  upon  earth,  and  the  restless 

heart  of  the  ocean 
Was  for  a  moment  consoled.     All  sounds  were  in 

harmony  blended. 
Voices  of  children  at  play,  the  crowing  of  cocks  in 

the  farm-yards, 
Whir  of  wings  in  the  drowsy  air,  and  the  cooing  of 

pigeons, 
All  were  subdued  and  low  as  the  murmurs  of  love, 

and  the  great  sun 
Looked  with  the  eye  of  love  through  the  golden 

vapors  around  him ; 
While  arrayed  in  its  robes  of  russet  and  scarlet 

and  yellow, 
Bright  with  the  sheen  of  the  dew,  each  glittering 

tree  of  the  forest 


EVANGELINE.  13 

Flashed  like  the  plane-tree  the  Persian  adorned 
with  mantles  and  jewels. 

Now  recommenced  the  reign  of  rest  and  affection 

and  stillness. 
Day  with  its  burden  and  heat  had  departed,  and 

twilight  descending 
Brought  back  the  evening  star  to  the  sky,  and  tha 

herds  to  the  homestead. 
Pawing  the  ground  they  came,  and  resting  their 

necks  on  each  other, 

And  with  their  nostrils  distended  inhaling  the  fresh- 
ness of  evening. 
Foremost,  bearing  the  bell,  Evangeline's  beautiful 

heifer, 
Proud  of  her  snow-white  hide,  and  the  ribbon  that 

waved  from  her  collar, 
Quietly  paced  and  slow,  as  if  conscious  of  human 

atlection. 
Then  came  the  shepherd  back  with  his  bleating 

flocks  from  the  seaside, 
Where  was  their  favorite  pasture.    Behind  them 

followed  the  watch-dog, 
Patient,  full  of  importance,  and  grand  in  the  pride 

of  his  instinct, 
Walking  from  side  to  side  with  a  lordly  air,  and 

superbly 
Waving  lu's  bushy  tail,  and  urging  forward  the 

stragglers ; 
Regent  of  Hocks  was  he  when  the  shepherd  slept; 

their  protector, 
When  from  the  forest  at  night,  through  the  starry 

silence,  the  wolves  howled. 
Late,  with  the  rising  moon,  returned  the  wains  from 

the  marshes, 
Laden  with  briny  hay,  that  filled  the  air  with  ita 

odor. 
Cheerily  neighed  the  steeds,  with  dew  on  their 

manes  and  their  fetlocks, 


14  EVAXGELLN-E. 

WTiile  aloft    on   their  shoulders  the  wooden  and 

ponderous  saddles, 

Painted  with   brilliant  dyes,  and  adorned  with  tas- 
sels of  crimson, 
Nodded  in  bright  array,  like  hollyhocks  heavy  with 

blossoms. 
Patiently  stood  the  cows  meanwhile,  and  yielded 

their  udders 
Unto  the  milkmaid's  hand;    whilst  loud  and  in 

regular  cadence 
Into  the  sounding  pails  the  foaming  streamlets  do- 

secnded. 
Lowing  of  cattle  and  peals  of  laughter  were  heard 

in  the  farm-yard, 
Echoed  back  by  the  barns.     Anon  they  sank  into 

stillness; 
Heavily  closed,  with  a  jarring  sound,  the  valves  of 

the  barn-doors, 
Battled  the  wooden  bars,  and  all  for  a  season  was 

silent 

In-doors,  warm  by  the  wide-mouthed  fireplace, 

idly  the  farmer 
Sat  in  his  elbow-chair,  and  watched  how  the  flames 

and  the  smoke-wreaths 
Struggled  together  like  foes  in  a  burning  city. 

Behind  him, 
Nodding  and  mocking  along  the  wall,  with  gesture* 

fantastic, 
Darted  his  own  huge  shadow,  and  vanished  away 

into  darkness. 
Faces,  clumsily  carved  in  oak,  on  the  back  of  his 

arm-chair 
Laughed  in  the  flickering  light,  and  the  pewter 

plates  on  the  dresser 
Caught  and  reflected  the  flame,  as  shields  of  armies 

the  sunshine. 
Fragments  of  song  the  old  man  sang,  and  carols  of 

Christmas, 


EVANGELINE.  15 

Such  as  at  home,  in  the  olden  time,  his  fathers  be- 
fore him 

Sang  in  their  Norman  orchards  and  bright  Bur- 
gundian  vineyards. 

Close  at  her  father's  side  was  the  gentle  Evangeline 
seated, 

Spinning  flax  for  the  loom,  that  stood  in  the  corner 
behind  her. 

Silent  awhile  were  its  treadles,  at  rest  was  its  dili- 
gent shuttle, 

While  the  monotonous  drone  of  the  wheel,  like  the 
drone  of  a  bagpipe, 

Followed,  the  old  man's  song,  and  united  the  frag- 
ments together. 

As  in  a  church,  when  the  chant  of  the  choir  at  in- 
tervals ceases, 

Footfalls  are  heard  in  the  aisles,  cr  words  of  the 
priest  at  the  altar, 

So,  in  each  pause  of  the  song,  with  measured  motion 
the  clock  clicked. 

Thus  as  they  sat,  there  were  footsteps  heard,  and, 

suddenly  lifted, 
Sounded  the  wooden  latch,  and  the  door  swung 

back  on  its  hinges. 
Benedict  knew  by  the  hob-nailed  shoes  it  was  Basil 

the  blacksmith, 
And  by  her  beating  heart  Evangeline  knew  who 

was  with  him. 

**  Welcome  1 "  the  farmer  exclaimed,  as  their  foot- 
steps paused  on  the  threshold, 
*  Welcome,  Basil,  my  friend  I     Come,  take    thy 

place  on  the  settle 
Close  by  the  chimney-side,  which  is  always  empty 

without  thce ; 
Take  from  the  shelf  overhead  thy  pipe  and  the  box 

of  tobacco ; 
Never  so  much  thyself  art  thou  as  when  through  tha 

curlina 


16  EYAXGELIXfc. 

Smoke  of  the  pipe  or  the  forge  thy  frieuJly  and' 

jovial  face  gleams 
Bound  and  red  as  the  harvest  moon  through  the 

mist  of  the  marshes." 
Then,  with  a  smile  of  content,  thus  answered  Basil 

the  blacksmith, 
Taking  with  easy  air  the  accustomed  seat  by  tie 

fireside : — 
**  Benedict  Bellefontaine,  thou  hast  ever  thy  jert 

and  thy  ballad  I 
Ever  in  checrfullest  mood  art  thou,  when  others 

are  filled  with 
Gloomy  forebodings  of  ill,  and  see  only  ruin  before 

them. 
Happy  art  thou,  as  if  every  day  thou  hadst  picked 

up  a  horseshoe." 
Pausing  a  moment,  to  take  the  pipe  that  Evange- 

Tine  brought  him, 
And  with  a  coal  from  the  embers  had  lighted,  he 

slowly  continued : — 
**  Four  days  now  are  passed  since  the  English  ships 

at  their  anchors 
Bide  in  the  Gaspcreau's  mouth,  with  their  cannon 

pointed  against  us. 
What  their  design  may  be  is  unknown  ;  but  all  aro 

commanded 
On  the  morrow  to  meet  in  the  church,  where  his 

L I  a  j  esty  *s  'mandate 
Will  be  proclaimed  as  law  in  the  land.     Alas  f  in 

the  mean  time 
Many  surmises  of  evil  alarm  the  hearts  of  tho 

people." 
Then  made  answer  the  fanner  — "  Perhaps  some 

friendlier  purpose 
Brings  these   ships  to  our  shores.     Perhaps  the 

harvests  in  England 
By  the  untimely  rains  or  untimelier  heat  have  been 

blighted, 
And  from  our  bursting  barns  they  would  feed  their 

cattle  and  children." 


EVANGELINE.  17 

«Not  so  thinketh  the  folk  in  the  village,"  said, 

warmly,  the  blacksmith, 
Shaking  his  head,  as  in  doubt ;  then,  heaving  a 

sigh,  he  continued : — 
"  Louisburg  is  not  forgotten,  nor  Beau  Sejour,  nor 

Port  Royal. 
Many  already  have  fled  to  the  forest,  and  lurk  on 

its  outskirts, 

Waiting  with  anxious  hearts  the  dubious  fate  of  to- 
morrow. 

Arms  have  been  taken  from  us,  and  warlike  weap- 
ons of  all  kinds ; 
Nothing  is  left  but  the  blacksmith's  sledge  and  the 

scythe  of  the  mower." 
Then  with  a  pleasant  smile  made  answer  the  jovial 

farmer : — 
"  Safer  are  we  unarmed,  in  the  midst  of  our  flocks 

and  our  cornfields, 
Safer  within  these  peaceful  dikes,  besieged  by  the 

ocean, 
Than  were  our  fathers  in  forts,  besieged  by  the 

enemy's  cannon. 
Fear  no  evil,  my  friend,  and  to-night  may  no 

shadow  of  sorrow 
Fall  on  this  house  and  hearth ;  for  this  is  the  night 

of  the  contract. 
Built  are  the  house  and  the  barn.    The  merry  lads 

of  the  village 
Strongly  have  built  them  and  well ;  and,  breaking 

the  glebe  round  about  them, 
Filled  the  barn  with  hay,  and  the  house  with  food 

for  a  twelvemonth. 
Kene  Leblanc  will  be  here  anon,  with  his  papers 

and  inkhorn. 
Shall  we  not  then  be  glad,  and  rejoice  in  the  joy 

of  our  children  ?  " 
As  apart  by  the  window  she  stood,  with  her 

in  her  lover's, 

VOL.  II.  2 


18  EVAXGELtN-E. 

Blushing  Evangclinc  heard  the  words  that  her 

lather  had  spoken, 
And  as  they  died  on  his  lips  the  worthy  notary 

entered. 

HI. 

BENT  like  a  laboring  oar,  the  toils  in  the  surf  of 

the  ocean, 
Bent,  but  not  broken,  by  age  was  the  form  of  tho 

notary  public ; 
Shocks  of  yellow  hair,  like  the  silken  floss  of  the 

maize,  hung 
Over  his  shoulders;  his  forehead  was  high;  and 

glasses  with  horn  bows 
Sat  astride  on  his  nose,  with  a  look  of  wisdom 

supernal. 
Father  of  twenty  children  was  he,  and  more  than 

a  hundred 
Children's  children  rode  on  his  knee,  and  heard 

his  great  watch  tick. 
Four  long  years  in   the  times  of  the  war  had  he 

languished  a  captive, 
Suffering  much  in  an  old  French  fort  as  the  friend 

of  the  English. 

Now,  though  warier  grown,  without  all  guile  or  sus- 
picion, 
Ripe  in  wisdom  was  he,  but  patient,  and  simple, 

and  childlike. 
Ho  was  beloved  by  all,  and  most  of  all  by  tho 

children ; 
For  he  told  them  tales  of  the  Loup-garou  in  tho 

forest, 
And  of  the  goblin  that  came  in  the  night  to  water 

the  horses, 
And  of  the  white  Lctiche,  the  ghost  of  a  child  who 

unchristened 

Died,  and  was  doomed  to  haunt  unseen  the  cham- 
bers of  children  ; 
And  how  on  Christmas  eve  the  ox(u  talked  in  the 

strife, 


EVAXGELrXE.  IS 

And  how  the  fever  was  cured  by  a  spider  shut  up 

in  a  nutshell, 
And  of  the  marvellous  powers  of  four-leaved  clover 

and  horseshoes, 
With  whatsoever  else  was  writ  in  the  lore  of  the 

village. 
Then  up  rose  from  his  seat  by  the  fireside  Basil 

the  blacksmith, 

Knocked  from  his  pipe  the  ashes,  and  slowly  ex- 
tending his  right  hand, 
"  Father  Leblanc,"  lie  exclaimed,  "  thou  hast  heard 

the  talk  in  the  village, 
And,  perchance,  canst  tell  us  some  news  of  these 

ships  and  their  errand." 
Then  with  modest  demeanour  made  answer  the 

notary  public, — 
"Gossip  enough  have  I  heard,  in  sooth,  yet  am 

never  the  wiser ; 
And  what  their  errand  may  be  I  know  not  better 

than  others. 

Yet  am  I  not  of  those  who  imagine  some  evil  inten- 
tion 
Brings  them  here,  for  we  are  at  peace ;  and  why 

then  molest  us  ?  " 
"  God's  name ! "  shouted  the  hasty  and  somewhat 

irascible  blacksmith ; 
"  Must  we  in  all  things  look  for  the  how,  and  the 

why,  and  the  wherefore  '? 
Daily  injustice  is  done,  and  might  is  the  right  ot 

the  strongest ! " 
But,  without  heeding  his  warmth,  continued  thd 

notary  public, — 

"Man  is  unjust,  but  God  is  just;  and  finally  jus- 
tice 
Triumphs ;  and  well  I  remember  a  story,  that  often 

consoled  me, 
When  as  a  captive  I  lay  in  the  old  French  fort  at 

Port  Royal." 
Ibis  was  the  old  man's  favorite  tale,  and  he  loved 

to  repeat  it 


20  EVAXuELIXE. 

When  his  neighbours  complained  that  any  injustice 

•was  done  them. 
"  Once  iu  an  ancient  city,  whose  name  I  no  longer 

remember, 
Raised  aloft  on  a  column,  a  brazen  statue  of  Jus* 

tice 
Stood  in  the  public  square,  upholding  the  scales  in 

its  left  hand, 
And  in  its  right  a  sword,  as  an  emblem  that  justice 

presided 
Over  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  the  hearts  and 

homes  of  the  people. 
Even  the  birds  had  built  their  nests  in  tho  scales 

of  the  balance, 
Having  no  fear  of  the  sword  that  flashed  in  the 

sunshine  above  them. 
But  in  the  course  of  time  the  laws  of  the  land 

were  corrupted ; 
Might  took  the  place  of  right,  and  tho  weak  were 

oppressed,  and  the  mi«hty 
Ruled  with  an  iron  rod.    Then  it  chanced  in  a 

nobleman's  palace 
That  a  necklace  of  pearls  was  lost,  and  ere  long  a 

suspicion 
Fell  on  an  orphan  girl  who  lived  as  maid  in  the 

household. 
She,  after  form  of  trial  condemned  to  die  on  the 

scaffold, 
Patiently  met  her  doom  at  the  foot  of  tbs  statue 

of  Justice. 
As  to  her  Father  in  heaven  her  innocent  spirit 

ascended, 
Lo  1  o'er  the  city  a  tempest  rose  ;  and  the  bolts  of 

the  thunder 
Smote  the  statue  of  bronze,  and  hurled  in  wrath 

from  its  left  hand 
Down  on  the  pavement  below  the  clattering  scales 

of  the  balance, 
And  in  the  hollow  thereof  was  found  the  nest  of  a 

maq>ie, 


EVANGELESTE.  21 

Into  whose  clay-built  walls  the  necklace  of  pearls 

was  inwoven." 
Silenced,  but  not  convinced,  when  the  story  was 

ended,  the  blacksmith 
Stood  like  a  man  who  fain  would  speak,  but  findetb 

no  language ; 
All  his  thoughts  were  congealed  into  lines  on  his 

face,  as  the  vapors 
Freeze  in  fantastic  shapes  on  the  window-panes  in 

the  winter. 

Then  Evangeline  lighted  the  brazen  lamp  on  tho 

table, 
Filled,  till  it  overflowed,  the  pewter  tankard  with 

home-bi'ewcd 
Nut-brown  ale,  that  was  famed  for  its  strength  in 

the  village  of  Grand-Pre ; 
While  from  his  pocket  the  notary  drew  his  papers 

and  ink-horn, 
Wrote  with  a  steady  hand  the  date  and  the  age  of 

the  parties, 
Naming  the  dower  of  the  bride  in  flocks  of  sheep 

and  in  cattle. 
Orderly  all  things  proceeded,  and  duly  and  well 

were  completed, 
And  the  great  seal  of  the  law  was  set  like  a  sun  on 

the  margin. 
Then  from  his  leathern  pouch  the  fanner  threw  on 

the  table 
Three  times  the  old  man's  fee  in  solid  pieces  of 

silver ; 
Anl  the  notary  rising,  and  blessing  the  bride  and 

the  bridegroom, 
Lifted  aloft  the  tankard  of  ale  and  drank  to  their 

welfare. 
Wiping  the  foam  from  his  lip,  he  solemnly  bowed 

and  departed, 
While  in  silence  the  ethers  sat  and  mused  by  the 

fireside, 


22  EVANGELIXE. 

1111  Evangelino  brought  the  draught-board  out  of 

its  corner. 
Soon  was  the.  mine  begun.    In  friendly  contention 

the  old  men 

Laugheil  at  each  lucky  hit,  or  unsuccessful  manoeu- 
vre, 
Laughed  when  a  man  was  crowned,  or  a  breach 

was  made  in  the,  king- row. 
Meanwhile  apart,  in  the  twilight  gloom  of  a  wia« 

dow's  embrasure, 
Bat  the  lovers,  and  whispered  together,  tcholding 

the  moon  rise 
Over  the  pallid  sea  and  the  silvery  mist  of  the 

meadows. 
Silently  one  by  one,  in  the  infinite  meadows  of 

Leave n, 
Blossomed  the  lovely  stars,  the  forgct-ine-nots  of 

the  angels. 

Thus  passed  the  evening  away.     Anon  the  bell 

from  the  belfry 
Rang  out  the  hour  of  nine,  the  village  curfew,  and 

straightway 
Rose  the  guests  and  departed ;  and  silence  reigned 

in  the  household. 
Many  a  farewell  word  and  sweet  good-night  on  the 

door-step 
Lingered  long  in  Evangeline's  heart,  and  filled  it 

with  gladness. 
Carefully  i  hen  were  covered  the  embers  that  glowed 

on  the  hearth-stone, 
A.nd  on  the  oaken  stairs  resounded  the  tread  of  tlio 

farmer. 
Soon  witii  a  soundless  step  the  foot  of  Evangclino 

followed. 
Up  the  staircase  moved  a  luminous  space  in  tho 

darkness, 
IJghted  less  by  the  lamp  tlian  the  shining  face  of 

the  maiden. 


EVANGELINE.  2S 

Silent  sho  passed  through  the  liall,  and  entered  the 

door  of  her  chamber. 
Simple  that  chamber  was,  with,  its  curtains  of  white, 

and  its  clothes-press 
Ample  and  high,  on  whose  spacious  shelves  were 

carefully  folded 
Linen  and  woollen  stuffs,  by  the  hand  of  Evan- 

geline  woven. 
This  was  the  precious  dower  she  would  bring  to  her 

husband  in  marriage, 
Letter  than  Hocks  and  herds,  being  proofs  of  her 

skill  as  a  housewife. 
Soon  she  extinguished  her  lamp,  tor  the  mellow 

and  radiant  moonlight 
Streamed   through  the  windows  and  lighted  the 

room,  till  the  heart  of  the  maiden 
Swelled  and  obeyed  its  power,  like  the  tremulous 

tides  of  the  ocean. 
Ah !    she  was  fair,   exceeding    fair  to  behold,  as 

she  stood  with 
Naked  snow-white  feet  on  the  gleaming  floor  of 

her  chamber! 
Little  she  dreamed  that  below,  among  the  trees  of 

the  orchard, 
Waited  her  lover  and  watched  for  the  gleam  of 

her  lamp  and  her  shadow. 

Yet  were  her  thoughts  of  him,  and  at  times  a  feel- 
ing of  sadness 
Passed  o'er  her  soul,  as  the  sailing  shade  of  clouds 

in  the  moonlight 
Flitted  across  the  lloor  and  darkened  the  room  for 

a  moment. 
And  as  she  gazed  from  the  window  she  saw  serenely 

the  moon  pass 
Forth  from  the  folds  of  a  cloud,  and  one  star  follow 

lit']'  IboNtrps, 
At  out  of  Abraham's  tent  young  Ishniacl  wandered 

with  Hagar  1 


EVAXGELINE. 


PLEASANTLY  rose  next  morn  the  sun  on  the  villag* 
of  Grand-Prd. 

Pleasantly  gleamed  in  the  soft,  sweet  air  the  Basin 
of  Minas, 

Where  the  ships,  with  their  wavering  shadows, 
were  riding  at  anchor. 

Life  had  long  been  astir  in  the  village,  and  clam- 
orous labor 

Knocked  with  its  hundred  hands  at  the  golden  gates 
of  the  morning. 

Now  from  the  country  around,  from  the  ianns  and 
the  neighbouring  hamlets, 

Came  in  their  holiday  dresses  the  blithe  Acadian 
peasants. 

Many  a  glad  good-morrow  and  jocund  laugh  from 
the  young  folk 

Made  the  bright  air  brighter,  as  up  from  the  nu- 
merous meadows, 

Where  no  path  could  be  seen  but  the  track  of 
wheels  in  the  greensward, 

Group  after  group  appeared,  and  joined,  or  passed 
on  the  highway. 

Long  ere  noon,  in  the  village  all  sounds  of  labor 
were  silenced. 

Thronged  were  the  streets  with  people  ;  and  noisy 
groups  at  the  house-doors 

Sat  in  the  cheerful  sun,  and  rejoiced  and  gossipped 
together. 

Every  house  was  an  inn,  where  all  were  welcomed 
and  feasted ; 

For  with  this  simple  people,  who  lived  like  broth- 
ers together, 

All  things  were  held  in  common,  and  what  one  had 
was  another's. 

Tel  under  Benedict's  roof  hospitality  seemed  more 
abundant : 


EVANGELINE.  25 

For  Evangeline  stood  among  the  guests  of  her 
father ; 

Bright  was  her  face  -with  smiles,  and  words  of  wel- 
come and  gladness 

Fell  from  her  beatitil'ul  lips,  and  blessed  the  cup  SA 
she  gave  it. 

Under  the  open  sky,  in  the  odorous  air  of  the 

orchard, 
Bending  with  golden  fruit,  was  spread  the  feast  of 

betrothal. 
There  in  the  shade  of  the  porch  were  the  priest 

and  the  notary  seated ; 
There  good  Benedict    sat,   and  sturdy  Basil  the 

blacksmith. 
Not  far  withdrawn  from  these,  by  the  cider-press 

and  the  beehives, 
Michael  the  fiddler  was  placed,  with  the  gayest  of 

hearts  and  of  waistcoats. 
Shadow  and  light  from  the  leaves  alternately  played 

on  his  snow-white 
Hair,  as  it  waved  in  the  wind ;  and  the  jolly  face 

of  the  fiddler 
Glowed  like  a  living  coal  when  the  ashes  are  blown 

from  the  embers. 
Gayly  the  old  man  sang  to  the  vibrant  sound  of  his 

fiddle, 
Tows  les  Bourgeois  de  Chartres,  and  Le  Carillon  de 

Dunkerque, 
And  anon  with  his  wooden  shoes  beat  time  to  the 

music. 
Merrily,  merrily  whirled  the  wheels  of  the  dizzying 

dances 
Under  the  orchard-trees  and  down  the  path  to  the 

meadows ; 
Old  folk  and  young  together,  and  children  mingled 

among  them. 
Fairest  of  all  the  maids  was  Evangeline,  Benedict's 

daughter  1 


26  EVAXGELES'E. 

Noblest  of  all  the  youths  was  Gabriel,  son  of  the 
blacksmith  1 

So  passed  the  morning  away.     And  lo !  with  a 

summons  sonorous 
Sounded  the  bell  from  its  tower,  and  over  the 

meadows  a  drum  beat. 
Thronged  ere  long   was  the   church  with    men. 

Without,  in  the  churchyard, 
Waited  the  women.     They  stood  by  the  graves, 

and  hung  on  the  heud-stoues 
Garlands  of  autumn-leaves  and    evergreens  fresh 

from  the  forest. 
Then  came  the  guard  from  the  ships,  and  marching 

proudly  among  them 

Entered  the  sacred  portal.    With   loud  and  dis- 
sonant clangor 
Echoed  the  sound  of  their  brazen  drums  from  cefl- 

ing  and  casement, — 
Echoed  a  moment  only,  and  slowly  the  ponderous 

portal 
Closed,  and  in  silence  the  crowd  awaited  the  will 

of  the  soldiers. 
Then  uprose  their  commander,  and  spake  from  the 

steps  of  the  altar, 
Holding  aloft  in  his  hands,  with  its  seals,  the  royal 

commission. 
"You  are  convened  this  day,"  he  said,  "by  hi* 

Majesty's  orders. 
Clement  and  kind  has  he  been  ;  but  how  you  Lava 

answered  his  kindness, 
Let  your  own  hearts  reply  !     To  my  natural  make 

and  my  temper 
Painful  the  task  is  I  do,  which  to  you  I  know  must 

be  grievous. 
Tet  must   I  liow  and  obey,  and  deliver  the  will  of 

our  monarch  ; 
Namely,  that  all  your  lands,  and  dwellings,  and 

"cattle  of  alTkinds 


EVANGELISE.  27 

Forfeited  be  to  the  crown ;   and  that  you  your- 
selves fi-om  this  province 
Be  transported  to  other  lauds.      God  grant  you 

may  dwell  there 
Ever  as  faithful  subjects,  a  nappy  and  peaceable 

people ! 
Prisoners   now  I  declare  you;    for    such    is  his 

Majesty's  pleasure ! " 
A3,  when  the  air  is  serene  in  the  sultry  solstice  of 

summer, 
Suddenly  gathers  a  storm,  and  the  deadly  sling  of 

the  hailstones 
Beats  down   the   farmer's  corn  in  the  field  and 

shatters  his  windows, 
Hiding  the   sun,  and   strewing  the  ground  with 

thatch  from  the  house-roofs, 
Bellowing  lly  the  herds,  and  seek  to  break  their 

inclosures ; 
So  on   the   hearts  of  the   people  descended  the 

words  of  the  speaker. 
Silent  a  moment  they  stood  in  speechless  wonder, 

and  then  rose 
Louder  and  ever  louder  a  wail  of  sorrow  and 

anger, 
And,  by  one  impulse  moved,  they  madly  rushed  to 

the  door-way. 
Vain  was  the  hope' of  escape ;  and  cries  and  fierce 

imprecations 
Rang  through  the  house  of  prayer ;  and  high  o'er 

the  heads  of  the  others 
Rose,  with  his  arms  uplifted,  the  figure  of  Basil  the 

blacksmith, 
As,  on  a  stormy  sea,  a  spar  is  tossed  by  the 

billows. 
Flushed  was  his  face  and  distorted  with  passion ; 

and  wildly  he  shouted, — 
*  Down  with  the  tyrants  of  England  1   we  never 

have  sworn  them  allegiance  I 
Death  to  these  foreign  soldiers,  who  seize  on  oul 

homes  and  our  harvests  1" 


18  EVANGELIXE. 

More  he  fain  -would  have  said,  but  the  merciless 

hand  of  a  soldier 
Smote  him  upon   the   mouth,  and  dragged  him 

down  to  the  pavement. 

In  the  midst  of  the  strife  and  tumult  of  angry 

contention, 
Lo !  the  door  of  the  chancel  opened,  and  Father 

Fclician 
Entered,  with  serious  mien,  and  ascended  the  steps 

of  the  altar, 
liaising  his  reverend  hand,  with  a  gesture  he  awed 

into  silence 
All  that  clamorous  throng ;  and  thus  he  spake  to 

his  people ; 
Deep  were  his  tones    and  solemn ;    in    accents 

measured  and  mournful 
Spake  he,  as,  after  the  tocsin's  alarum,  distinctly 

the  clock  strikes. 
"What   is  this  that  ye  do,  my  children?    what 

madness  has  seized  you  V 
Forty  years  of  my  life  have  I  labored  among  you, 

and  taught  you, 
Not  in  word  alone,  but    in  deed,  to  love  one 

another  1 
Is  this  the  fruit  of  my  toils,  of  my  vigils  and 

prayers  and  privations  V 
Have  you  so  soon  forgotten  all  lessons  of  love  and 

forgiveness  ? 
This  is  the  house  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  and 

would  you  profane  it 
Thus  with  violent  deeds  and  hearts  overflowing 

with  hatred? 
Lo!   where  the  crucified  Christ  from  his  cross  is 

gazing  upon  you  I 
See!  in  those  sorrowful  eyes  what  meekness  and 

holy  compassion  ! 
Hark  !   how  those  lips  still  repeat  the  prayer, '  0 

Father,  forgive  them ! ' 


EVAXGELIXE.  29 

Let  us  repeat  that  prayer  in  the  hour  when  the 
•wicked  assail  us, 

Let  us'  repeat  it  now,  and  say, '  O  Father,  forgive 
them ! ' " 

Few  were  his  words  of  rebuke,  but  deep  in  the 
hearts  of  his  people 

Sank  they,  and  sobs  of  contrition  succeeded  that 
passionate  outbreak; 

And  they  repeated  his  prayer,  and  said,  "  O  Fa- 
ther, forgive  them ! " 

Then  came  the  evening  service.      The  tapers 

gleamed  from  the  altar. 
Fervent  and  deep  was  the  voice  of  the  priest,  and 

the  people  responded, 
Not  with  their  lips  alone,  but  their  hearts ;  and  the 

Ave  Maria 
Sang  they,  and  fell  on  their  knees,  and  their  souls, 

with  devotion  translated, 
Rose  on  the  ardor  of  prayer,  like  Elijah  ascending 

to  heaven. 

Meanwhile  had  spread  in  the  village  the  tidings 

of  ill,  and  on  all  sides 
Wandered,  wailing,  from  house  to  house  the  women 

and  children. 
Long  at  her  father's  door  Evangeline  stood,  with 

her  right  hand 
Shialding  her  eyes  from  the  level  rays  of  the  ran, 

that,  descending, 
Lighted  the  village  street  with  mysterious  splendor, 

and  roofed  each 

Peasant's  cottage  with    golden   thatch,   and  em- 
blazoned its  windows. 
Long  within  had  been  spread  the  snow-white  cloth 

on  the  table ; 
There  stood  the   whcaten   loaf,   and  the    honey 

fragrant  with  wild  flowers ; 
There  stood  the  tankard  of  ale,  and  the  chees* 

fresh  brought  from  the  djxirv ; 


80  EVAXGELIXE. 

And  at  tlic  licarl  of  the  board  the  great  arm-chali 

of  the  farmer. 
Thus  did  Evangcline  wait  at  her  father's  door,  ai 

the  sunset 
Threw  the  long  shadows  of  trees  o'er  the  broad 

ambrosial  meadows. 
Ah !   on  her  spirit  within  a  deeper  shadow  had 

fallen, 
And  from  the  fields  of  her  soul  a  fragrance  celestial 

ascended, — 
Charity,  meekness,  love,  and  hope,  and  forgiveness, 

and  patience! 
Then,  all-forgetful  of  self,  she  wandered  into  the 

village,    . 
Cheering  with  looks  and  words  the  disconsolate 

hearts  of  the  women, 
As  o'er  the  darkening  fields  with  lingering  steps 

they  departed, 
Urged  by  their  household  cares,  and  the  wear}-  feet 

of  their  children. 

Down  sank  the  great  red  sun,  and  in  golden,  glim- 
mering vapors 
Veiled   the   light  of  his  face,  like  the   Prophet 

descending  from  Sinai. 
Sweetly  over  the  village  the  bell  of  the  Angelas 

sounded. 

Meanwhile,   amid    the    gloom,  by  the  church 

Kvangelinc  lingered. 
All  was  silent  within  ;  and  in  vain  at  the  door  and 

the  windows 
Stood  she,  and  listened  and  looked,  until,  overcome 

by  emotion 
u  Gabriel ! "  cried  she  aloud  with  tremulous  voice ; 

but  no  answer 
Came    from    the    graves   of   the  dead,   nor   the 

gloomier  grave  of  the  living. 
Slowly  at  length  she  returned  to  the  tenantlesa 

house  of  her  lather. 


EVANGELISE.  81 

Smouldered  the  fire  on  the  hearth,  on  the  board 

stood  the  supper  untasted, 
Empty  and  drear  was  each  room,  and  haunted- 

with  phantoms  of  terror. 
Sadly  echoed  her  step  on  the  stair  and  the  floor 

of  her  chamber. 
In  the  dead  of  the  night  she  heard  the  whispering 

rain  fall 
Txrad  on  the  withered  leaves  of  the  sycamore-tree 

by  the  window. 
Keenly  the  lightning  flashed ;  and  the  voice  of  the 

echoing  thunder 
Told  her  that  God  was  in  heaven,  and  governed 

the  world  he  created ! 
Then  she  remembered  the  tale  she  had  heard  of 

the  justice  of  heaven  ; 
Soothed  was  her  troubled  soul,  and  she  peacefully 

slumbered  till  morning. 


FOUR  times  the  sun  had  risen  and  set ;  and  now 

on  the  fifth  day 
Cheerily  called  the  cock  to  the  sleeping  maids  of 

the  farm-house. 
Soon  o'er  the  yellow  fields,  in  silent  and  mournful* 

procession, 
Came  from  the  neighbouring  hamlets  and  farms 

the  Acadian  women, 
Driving  in  ponderous  wains  their  household  goods 

to  the  sea-shore, 
Pausing  and  looking  b*ck  to  gaze  once  more  on 

their  dwellings, 
Ere  they  were  shut  from  sight  by  the  winding  road 

and  the  woodland. 
Closo  at  their  sides  their  children  ran.  and  urged 

on  the  oxen, 

While  in  their  little  hands  they  clasped  some  frag- 
ments of  play-incogs. 


82  EVAXGELLXE. 

Thus  to  the  Gaspereau's  mouth  they  hurried 

and  there  on  the  sea-beach 
Piled  in  confusion  lay  the  household  goods  of  the 

peasants. 
All  day  long  between  the  shore  and  the  ships  did 

the  boats  ply ; 
All  day  long  the  wains  came  laboring  down  from 

the  village. 
Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  sun  was  near  to 

his  setting, 
Echoing  far  o'er  the  fields  came  the  roll  of  drums 

from  the  church-yard. 
Thither  the  women  and  children  thronged.     On  a 

sudden  the  church-doors 
Opened,  and  forth  came  the  guard,  and  marching 

in  gloomy  procession 

Followed  the  long-imprisoned,  but  patient,  Aca- 
dian farmers. 
Even   as  pilgrims,  who  journey  afar  from  their 

homes  and  their  country, 
Sing  as  they  go,  and  in  singing  forget  they  are 

weary  and  way-worn, 
So  with  songs  on  their  lips  the  Acadian  peasants 

descended 
Down  from  the  church  to  the  shore,  amid  their 

wives  and  their  daughters. 
Foremost  the  young    men    came ;    and,    raising 

together  their  voices, 
Sang  they  with   tremulous  lips  a  chant  of   the 

Catholic  Missions : — 
"  Sacred  heart  of  the  Saviour  I     O  inexhaustible 

fountain  ! 

Fill  our  hearts  this  day  with  strength,  and  submis- 
sion and  patience  1 " 
Then  the  old   men,  as  they  marched,  and  the 

women  that  stood  by  the  way-side 
Joined  in  the  sacred  psaliu,  and  the  birds  in  the 

sunshine  above  them 
Mingled  their  notes  therewith,  like  voices  of  spirit* 

departed. 


EVAXGE^IXE.  38 

Half-way  down  to  the  shore  Evangeline  waited 

in  silence, 
Not  overcome  with  grief,  but  strong  in  the  hour  of 

adliction, — 
Calmly  and  sadly  waited,  until    the    procession 

approached  her, 
Ar.d  she  beheld  the  face   of  Gabriel  pale  with 

emotion. 
Tears  then  filled  her  eyes,  and,  eagerly  running  to 

meet  him, 
Clasped  she  his  hands,  and  laid  her  head  on  his 

shoulder,  and  whispered, — 
M  Gabriel !  be  of  good  cheer !  for  if  we  love  one 

another, 

Nothing,  in   truth,   can  harm  us,  whatever  mis- 
chances may  happen ! " 
Smiling  she   spake  these  words ;   then  suddenly 

paused,  for  her  father 
Saw  she   slowly  advancing.     Alas!  how  changed 

was  his  aspect ! 
Gone  was  the  glow  from  his  cheek,  and  the  fire 

from  his  eye,  and  his  footstep 
Heavier  seemed   with   the  weight   of  the  weary 

heart  in  his  bosom. 
But  with  a  smile  and  a  sigh,  she  clasped  his  neck 

and  embraced  him, 
Speaking  words  of  endearment  where  words  of 

comfort  availed  not. 
Thus  to  the  Gaspereau's  mouth  moved  on  that 

mournful  procession. 

There  disorder  prevailed,  and  the  tumult  and 

stir  of  embarking. 

Busily  plied  the  freighted  boats ;  and  in  the  con- 
fusion 
Wives  were  torn  from  their  husbands,  and  mothers, 

too  late,  saw  their  children 
Left  on   the   land,   extending    their    arms,   with 

wildest  entreaties. 
VOL.  II.  3 


84  EVAXGELINE. 

So  unto  separate   sLips  were  Basil  and  Gabriel 

carried, 
While  in  despair  on  the  shore  Evangeline  stood 

with  licr  father. 
Half  the    .ask  was  not  done  when  the  sun  went 

down,  and  the  twilight 
Deepened  and  darkened  around ;  and  in  hasto  the 

refluent  ocean 
Fled  away  from  the  shore,  and  left  the  line  of  the 

land-beach 
Covered  with  waifs  of  the  tide,  with  kelp  anJ  the 

slippery  se-i-weed. 
Farther  back 'in  the  midst  of  the  household  goods 

and  the  wagons, 
Like    to  a  gipsy    camp,  or    a    leaguer    after  a 

battle, 
All  escape  cut  off  by  the  sea,  and  the  sentinels 

near  them, 
Lay  encamped  for  the  night  the  houseless  Acadian 

farmers. 

Back  to  its  nethermost  caves  retreated  the  bellow- 
ing ocean, 
Dragging  adown  the  beach  the  rattling  pebbles, 

and  leaving 
Inland  and  far  up  the  shore  the  stranded  boats  of 

the  sailors. 
Then,  as  the  night  descended,  the  herds  returned 

from  their  pastures ; 
Sweet  was  the  moist  still  air  with  the  odor  of  milk 

from  their  udders; 
Lowing  they  waited,  and  long,  at  the  well-known 

bars  of  the  farm-yard, — 
Waited  an  J  looked  in  vain  for  the  voice  and  the 

hand  of  the  milkmaid. 
Silence  n-ijiiied  in  the  streets ;  from  the  church  no 

Antrim  sounded, 
Rose  no  smoke  from  the  roofs,  and  gleamed  no 

lights  from  the  wir  dows. 


EVAXGELIXE  83 

But  on  the  shores  meanwhile  the  evening  firea 

had  been  kindled, 
Built  of  the  drift-wood  thrown  on  the  sands  from 

wrecks  in  the  tempest. 
Round  them  shapes  of  gloom  and  sorrowful  facci 

•were  gathered, 
Voices  of  women   were  heard,  and  of  men,  and 

the  crying  of  children. 
Onward  from  lire  to  lire,  as  from  hearth  to  hearth 

in  his  parish, 

Wandered  the  faithful  priest,  consoling  and  bless- 
ing and  cheering, 
Like  unto  shipwrecked  Taul  on  Melita's  desolate 

sea-shore. 
Thus  he  approached  the  place  where  Evangeline 

sat  with  her  father, 
And  in  the  flickering  light  beheld  the  face  of  the 

old  man, 
Haggard  and  hollow  and  wan,  and  without  either 

thought  or  emotion, 
E'en  as  the  face  of  a  clock  from  which  the  hands 

have  been  token. 
Vainly  Evangeline  strove  with  words  and  caresses 

to  cheer  him, 
Vainly  offered  him  food;  yet  he  moved  not,  ha 

looked  not,  he  spake  not, 

But,  with  a  vacant  stare,  ever  gazed  at  the  flick- 
ering fire-light. 
"  Bencdicite  !  "  murmured  the  priest,  in  tones  of 

compassion. 
More  he  fain  would  have  said,  but  his  heart  wa» 

full,  and  his  accents 
Faltered  and  paused  on  his  lips,  as  the  feet  of  I 

child  on  a  threshold, 
Hushed  by  the  scene  he  beholds,  and  the  awfui 

presence  of  sorrow. 
Silently,  therefore,  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  head 

of  the  maiden, 
liaising  his  eyes,  full  of  tears   to  the  silent  stars 

that  above  them 


86  EVAXGELIXK. 

Moved  on  their  way,  unperturbed  ly  the  wrongl 

and  sorrows  of  mortals. 
Then   sat   he   <l»wn   at   her   side,  and  they  wept 

together  in  silence. 

Suddenly  rose  from  the  south  a  light,  as  in 
autumn  the  blood-mi 

Moon  climbs  the  crystal  walls  of  heaven,  and  o'er 
the  horixon 

Titan-like  stretches  its  hundred  hands  upon  moun- 
tain and  meadow, 

Seizing  the  rocks  and  the  rivers,  and  piling  huge 
shadows  together. 

Broader  and  ever  broader  it  gleamed  on  the  roofs 
of  the  village, 

Gleamed  on  the  sky  and  the  sea,  and  the  ships 
that  lay  in  the  roadstead. 

Columns  of  shining  smoke  uprose,  and  flashes  of 
llame  were 

Thrust  through  their  folds  and  withdrawn,  like 
the  quivering  hands  of  a  martyr. 

Then  as  the  wind  sei/ed  the  glecds  and  the  burn- 
ing thatch,  and,  uplifting, 

Whirled  them  aloft  through  the  air,  at  once  from 
a  hundred  house-tops 

Started  the  sheeted  smoke  with  flashes  of  flame 
intermingled. 

These  things  beheld  in  dismay  the  crowd  on  the 

shore  and  on  shipboard. 
Speechless  at  first  they  blood,  then  cried  aloud  in 

their  anguish, 
MWc   shall   behold   no  more   our   homes  in   the 

village  of  tJrand-lVe  !  " 
Loud  on  a  sudden  the  cocks  began  to  crow  in  the 

farm-yards, 
Thinking   the   day   had   dawned ;   and  anon  the 

lowing  of  cattle 
Came  on  the  evening  breeze,  by  the  barking  oi 

dogs  interrupted. 


KVAXGELINE.  3? 

Then  rose  a  sound  of  dread,  such  as  startles  the 

sleeping  encampments 
Far  in  tin;  western  prairies  or  forests  that  skirt  the 

NebrwJB, 
When  the  wild  horses  affrighted  sweep  by  with  the 

speed  of  the  whirlwind, 
Or  the  loud  bellowing  herds  of  buffaloes  rush  io 

the  river. 
Such  was  the  sound  that  arose  on  the  night,  as  the 

herds  and  the  horses 
Broke  through  their  folds  and  fences,  and  madly 

rushed  o'er  the  meadows. 

Overwhelmed  with  the  sight,  yet  speechless,  the 

priest  and  the  maiden 
Gazed  on  the  scene  of  terror  that  reddened  and 

widened  before  them  ; 
And  as  they  turned  at  length  to  speak  to  their 

silent  companion, 
Lo !   from  his   seat  he  had   fallen,  and  stretched 

abroad  on  the  sea-shore 
Motionless  lay  his  form,  from  which  the  soul  had 

departed. 
Slowly  the  priest  uplifted  the  lifeless  head,  and  the 

maiden 
Knelt  at  her  lather's  side,  and  wailed  aloud  in  her 

terror. 
Then  in  a  swoon  she  sank,  and  lay  with  her  head 

on  his  bosom. 
Through  the  long  night  she  lay  in  deep,  oblivious 

slumber ; 
And  when  she  woke  from  the  trance,  she  beheld 

a  multitude  near  her. 
Faces  of  friends  she  beheld,  that  were  mournfully 

gaxing  upon  her, 
Pallid,   with'  tearful   eyes,   and  looks  of  saddest 

compassion. 
Still  the  blaze  of  the  burning  village  illumined  the 

landscape, 


18  EVAXGELIXE. 

Reddened  the  sky  overhead,  and  gleamed  on  the 

faces  around  her, 
And  like  the  day  of  doom  it  seemed  to  her  waver« 

ing  senses. 
Then  a  iamiliar  voice  she  heard,  as  it  said  to  the 

people, — 
"Let  us   bury  him  here  by  the  sea.    When  a 

happier  season 
Brings  us  again  to  our  homes  from  the  unknown 

land  of  our  exile, 
Then  shall  his  sacred  dust  be  piously  laid  in  tho 

church-yard." 
Such  -were  the  worth  of  the  priest.     And  there  in 

haste  by  the  sea-side, 
Having  the  glare  of  the  burning  village  for  funeral 

torches, 
But  without  bell  or  book,  they  buried  the  farmer 

of  (jrand-Pre. 
And  as  the  voice  of  the  priest  repeated  the  service 

of  sorrow, 
Lo!  with  a  mournful  sound,  like  the  voice  of  a  vast 

congregation, 
Solemnly  answered  the  sea,  and  mingled  its  roar 

with  the  dirges. 
T  was  the  returning  tide,  that  afar  from  the  waste 

of  the  ocean, 
With  the  first  dawn  of  the  day,  came  heaving  and 

hurrying  landward. 
Then  recommenced  once  more  the  stir  and  noise 

of  embark  ing; 
And  with  the  ebb  of  that  tide  the  ships  sailed  out 

of  the  harbour, 
Leaving  behind  them  the  dead  on  the  shore,  and 

the  village  in  ruins. 


EVAXGELIXE.  89 

PART  THE    SECOND. 


MANY  a  -weary  year  bad  passed  since  the  burning 

of  Grand-Pro, 
When  on   the   falling  tide  the   freighted  vessels 

departed, 
Bearing  a  nation,  with  all  its  household  gods,  into 

exile, 
Exile  without  an  cud,  and  without  an  example  in 

story. 
Far  asunder,  on  separate    coasts,  the    Acadians 

landed ; 
Scattered  were  they,  like  flakes  of  snow,  when  the 

wind  from  the  northeast 
Strikes  aslant  through  the  logs  that  darken   the 

Banks  of  Newfoundland. 
Friendless,  homeless,  hopeless,  they  wandered  from 

city  to  city, 

From  the  cold  lakes  of  the  North  to  sultry  South- 
ern savannas, — 
From  the   bleak  shores  of  the  sea  to  the  lands 

where  the  Father  of  Waters 
Seizes  the  hills  in  his  hands,  and  drags  them  down 

to  the  ocean, 
Deep  in  tlu-ir  sands  to  bury  the  scattered  bones  of 

the  mammoth. 

Friends  they  sought  and  homes ;  and  many,  de- 
spairing, heart-broken, 
Asked  of  the  earth  but  a  grave,  and  no  longer  a 

friend  nor  a  fireside. 
Written  their  history  stands  on  tablets  of  stone  in 

the  church-yards. 
Long  among  them  WHS  seen  a  maiden  who  waited 

and  wandered, 
tK)wly  and  meek  in  spirit,  and  patiently  suffering 

all  things. 


40  EVAXGELIXE. 

Fair  was  she  and  young;   but,  alas!  befc-e  hei 
extended, 

Dreary  and  vast  and  silent,  the  desert  of  life,  with 

its  pathway 
Marked  by  the  graves  of  those  who  had  sorrowed 

and  sufl'ered  before  her, 
Passions  long  extinguished,  and  hopes  long  dead 

and  abandoned, 
As  the  emigrant's  way  o'er  the  Western  desert  is 

marked  by 
Camp-fires  long  consumed,  and  bones  that  bleach 

in  the  sunshine. 

Something  there  was  in  her  life  incomplete,  imper- 
fect, unfinished ; 
As  if  a  morning  of  June,  with  all  its  music  and 

sunshine, 
Suddenly  paused  in  the  sky,  and,  fading,  slowly 

descended 
Into  the   east  again,  from  whence  it    late    had 

arisen. 
Sometimes  she  lingered  in  towns,  till,  urged  by  the 

fever  within  her, 
Urged  by  a  restless  longing,  the  hunger  and  thirst 

of  the  spirit, 
She  would  commence  again  her  endless  search  and 

endeavour ; 
Sometimes  in  church-yards  strayed,  and  gazed  on 

the  crosses  and  tombstones, 
Sat  by  some  nameless  grave,  and   thought    that 

perhaps  in  its  bosom 
He  was  already  at  rest,  and  she  longed  to  slumbet 

beside  him. 
Sometimes  a  rumor,  a  hearsay,  an    inarticulate 

whisper, 
Came  with  its  airy  hand  to  point  and  beckon  her 

forward. 
Sometimes  she  spake  with  those  who  had  seen  her 

beloved  and  known  him, 
But  it  was  long  ago,  in  some  far-off  place  or  for- 

gotten. 


EVAXGELINE.  4L 

*  Gabriel  Lr.jeuncssc  ! "  said  they ;   "  O,  yes  !  w« 

Lave  seen  him. 
He  was  with  Basil  the  blacksmith,  and  both  have 

gone  to  the  prairies; 
Coureurs-des-ljois  are  they,  and    famous   hunters 

and  trappers." 
u  Gabriel  Lajeunessc  1 "  said  others ;  "  O,  yc3  1  we 

have  seen  him. 

lie    is    a    Voyageur  in   the  lowlands  of  Louisi- 
ana." 
Then  would  they  say, — "  Dear  child  !  why  dream 

and  wait  lor  him  longer  ? 
Are  there  not  other  youths  as  fair  as  Gabriel? 

others 
VYLo  have  hearts  as  tender  and  true,  and  spirits  as 

loyal ? 
Ilere  is  "Baptiste  Leblanc,  the  notary's  son,  who 

has  loved  thee 
Many  a  tedious  year ;    come,  give  him  thy  hand 

and  be  happy ! 
Thou  art  too  fair  to  be  left  to  braid  St.  Catherine's 

tresses." 
Then   would    Evangeline    answer,    serenely    but 

sadly, — "  I  cannot ! 
Whither  my  heart  has  gone,  there  follows  my  hand, 

and  not  elsewhere. 
For  when  the  heart  goes  before,  like  a  lamp,  and 

illumines  the  pathway, 
Many  things  arc  made  clear,  that  else  lie  hidden  in 

darkness." 

And  thereupon  the  priest,  her  friend  and  father- 
confessor, 
Said,  with  a  smile, — "  O   daughter  !  thy  God  thus 

spcakcth  within  thee ! 
Talk  not  of  wasted  allection,  affection  never  was 

wasted ; 
If  it  enrich  not  the  heart  of  another,  its  waters, 

returning 
Back  to  their  springs,  like  the  rain,  shall  fill  them 

full  of  refreshment ; 


42  EVAXGEUXE. 

Tliat  which  tlio  fountain  sends  forth  returns  again 
to  the  fountain. 

Patience ;  accomplish  thy  labor ;  accomplish  th/ 
work  of  all'cction  ! 

Sorrow  ami  silence  arc  strong,  and  patient  endur- 
ance is  godlike. 

Therefore  accomplish  thy  labor  of  love,  till  the 
heart  is  made  godlike, 

Purified,  strengthened,  perfected,  and  rendered 
more  worthy  of  heaven  !  " 

Cheered  by  the  good  man's  words,  Evangcline 
labored  and  waited. 

Still  in  her  In-art  she  heard  the  funeral  dirge  of 
the  ocean, 

But  with  its  sound  there  was  mingled  a  voice  that 
whispered,  "  Despair  not !  " 

Thus  did  that  poor  «oul  wander  in  want  and  cheer- 
less discomfort, 

Bleeding,  barclboted,  over  the  shards  and  thorns 
of  existence. 

Let  me  essay,  O  Muse !  to  follow  the  wanderer's 
footsteps ; — 

Not  through  carh  devious  path,  each  changeful 
year  of  existence ; 

But  as  a  traveller  follows  a  streamlet's  course 
through  the  valley  : 

Far  from  its  margin  at  times,  and  seeing  the  glean 
of  i's  water 

Here  and  there,  in  some  open  space,  and  at  inter- 
vals only ; 

Then  drawing  nearer  its  banks,  through  sylvan 
glooms  that  conceal  it, 

Though  he  behold  it  not,  he  can  hear  its  continu- 
ous murmur ; 

Happy,  at  length,  if  he  find  the  spot  where  it 
reaches  an  outlet 


EVANGELES-E.  43 


IT  was  the  month  of  May.    Far  down  the  Beauti- 
ful River, 
Past  the   Ohio  shore  and  past  the  mouth  of  tho 

Wabash, 
Icto  the   golden   stream  of  the  broad  and  swift 

Mississippi, 
Floated   a  cumbrous   boat,   that    was   rowed   by 

Acadian  boatmen. 
It  was  a  band  of  exiles:  a  raft,  as  it  were,  from  the 

shipwrecked 
Nation,   scattered  along  the  coast,  now  floating 

together, 
Bound  by  the  bonds  of  a  common  belief  and  a 

common  misfortune  ; 
Men  and  women  and  children,  who,  guided  by  hope 

or  by  hearsay, 
Sought  lor  their  kith  and  their  kin  among  the  few- 

acred  farmers 
On   the  Acadian  coast,  and  the  prairies  of  fair 

Opelousas. 
With  them  Evangeline  went,  and  her  guide,  the 

Father  Fulician. 
Onward  o'er  sunken  sands,  through  a  wilderness 

sombre  with  forests, 
Day  after  day  they  glided  adown  the  turbulent 

river ; 
Night  after  night,  by  their  blazing  fires,  encamped 

on  its  borders. 
Now  through  rushing  chutes,  among  green  islands, 

where  plumelike 
Cotton-trees   nodded   their    shadowy  crests,  they 

swept  with  the  current, 
Then  emerged  into  broad  lagoons,  where  silvery 

sand-bars 
Lay  in  the  stream,  and  along  the  wimpling  waves 

of  their  margin, 


«4  EVAXGKLIXE. 

Shining  with  snow-white  plumes,  large  flocks  of 

pelicans  waded. 
Level  lli«  landscape  grew,  and  along  the  shores  of 

the  river, 
Shaded  by  china-trees,  in  the  inidst  of  luxuriant 

frank-US, 
Stood  the  houses  of  planters,  with  negro-cabins  and 

dove-cots. 
They  were  approaching  the  region  where  rcigni 

perpetual  summer, 
Where  through  the  Golden  Coast,  and  groves  of 

orange  and  citron, 
Sweeps  with  majestic  curve  the  river  away  to  the 

eastward. 

They,  too,  swerved  from  their  course  ;  and,  enter- 
ing the  Bayou  of  Plaqucmine, 
Soon  were  lost  in  a  maze  of  sluggish  and  devious 

water?, 
Which,  like  a  network  of  steel,  extended  in  every 

direction. 
Over    their    heads    the    towering  and   tenebrous 

boughs  of  the  cypress 
Met  in  a  dusky  arch, 'and  trailing  mosses  in  mid 

air, 
Waved  like  banners  that  hang  on  the  walls  of 

ancient  cathedrals. 
Deathlike  the  silence  seemed,  and  unbroken,  save 

by  the  herons 
Home  to  their  roosts  in  the  cedar-trees  returning 

at  sunset, 

Or  by  the  owl,  as  he  greeted  the  moon  with  demo- 
niac laughter. 
Lovely  the  moonlight  was  as  it  glanced  and  gleamed 

on  the  water, 
Gleamed   on   the   columns  of  cypress  and  cedar 

sustaining  the  arches, 
Down  through  whose  broken  vaults  it  fell  as  through 

chinks  in  a  ruin. 
Dreamlike,  and  indistinct,  and  strange  wore  all 

things  around  them. ; 


EVAXGELIXE.  •  45 

And  o'er  their  spirits  there  came  a  feeling  of 
wonder  and  sadness, — 

Strange  forebodings  of  ill,  unseen  and  that  cannot 
be  compassed. 

As,  at  the  tramp  of  a  horse's  hoof  on  the  turf  of  the 
prairies, 

Far  in  advance  are  closed  the  leaves  of  the  shrink- 
ing mimosa, 

So,  at  the  hoof-beats  of  fate,  with  sad  foreboding 
of  evil, 

Shrinks  and  closes  the  heart,  ere  the  stroke  of 
doom  has  attained  it. 

But  Evangeline's  heart  was  sustained  by  a  vision, 
that  faintly 

Floated  before  her  eyes,  and  beckoned  her  on 
through  the  moonlight. 

It  was  the  thought  of  her  brain  that  assumed  the 
shape  of  a  phantom. 

Through  those  shadowy  aisles  had  Gabriel  wan- 
dered before  her, 

And  every  stroke  of  the  oar  now  brought  him 
nearer  and  nearer. 

Then  in  his  place,  at  the  prow  of  the  boat,  rose 

one  of  the  oarsmen, 
And,  as  a  signal  sound,  if  others  like  them  pcrad- 

venture 
Sailed  on  those  gloomy  and  midnight  streams,  blew 

a  blast  on  his  bugle. 
Wild  through  the  dark  colonnades  and  corridors 

leafy  the  blast  rang, 
Breaking  the  seal  of  silence,  and  giving  tongues  to 

too  forest. 
Soundless  above  them  the  banners  of  mosa  just 

stirred  to  the  music. 
Multitudinous  echoes  awoke  and  died  in  the  di* 

tance, 
Over  the  watery  floor,  and  beneath  the  reverberant 

branches ; 


46  '  EVAXGEMXE. 

But  not  a  voice  replied  ;  no  answer  came  from  the 

darkness ; 
And  when  the  echoes  had  ceased,  like  a  sense  of 

pain  was  the  silence. 
Then  Kvangclinc  slept;   but  the  boatmen  rowed 

through  the  midnight, 
Silent  at  times,  then   singing  familiar  Canadian 

boat-songs, 
Such  as  they  sang  of  old  on  their  own  Acadian 

rivers. 
And  through  the  night  were  heard  the  mysterious 

sounds  of  the  desert, 
Far  oiT,  indistinct,  as   of  Avave   or  wind    in    the 

forest, 
Mixed  with  the  whoop  of  the  crane  and  the  roar 

of  the  grim  alligator. 

Thus  ere  another  noon  they  emerged  from  those 

shades  ;  and  before  them 
Lay,  in   the  golden  sun,  the  lakes  of  the  Atcha- 

falaya. 

Water-lilies  in  myriads  rocked  on  the  blight  undu- 
lations 
Made  by  the   passing  oars,  and,  resplendent  in 

tcauty,  the  lotus 
Lifted  her  golden  crown  above  the  heads  of  the 

boatmen. 
Faint  was   the  air    with  the    odorous  breath   of 

magnolia  blossoms, 
And    with   the   heat    of  noon ;   and    numberlew 

sylvan  islands, 
Fragrant  and  thk-kly  embowered  with  blossoming 

hedges  of  roses, 
Near  to  whose  shores  they  glided  along,  invited  to 

•lumber. 
Soon  by  the  iairost  of  these  their  wcarv  oars  were 

suspended. 
Under  tin-  boughs  of  Wachita  willows,  that  grew  bj 

the  marjjiu, 


EVAXGELIXE.  47 

Safely  their  boat  was  moored ;  and  scattered  about 

on  the  greensward, 
Tired  with  their  midnight  toil,  the  weary  travellers 

slumbered. 
Over  them  vast  and  high  extended  the  cope  of  a 

cedar. 
Swinging  from  its  great  arms,  the  trumpet-flower 

and  the  grape-vine 
Hung  their  ladder  of  ropes  aloft  like  the  ladder  of 

Jacob, 
On  whose  pendulous  stairs  the  angels  ascending,. 

descending, 
Were  the  swift  humming-birds,  that  flitted  from 

blossom  to  blossom. 

Such  was  the  vision  Kvangcline  saw  as  she  slum- 
bered beneath  it. 
Filled  was  her  heart  with  love,  and  the  dawn  of  an 

opening  heaven 
Lighted  her  soul  in  sleep  with  the  glory  of  regions 

celestial. 

Nearer  and  ever  nearer,  among  the  numberless 

islands, 
Darted  a  light,  swift  boat,  that  sped  away  o'er  the 

water, 
Urged  on  its  course  by  the  sinewy  arms  of  hunters 

and  trappers. 
Northward  its  prow  was  turned,  to  the  land  of  tho 

bison  and  beaver. 

At  the  holm  sat  a  youth,  with  countenance  thought- 
ful and  careworn. 
Dark  and  neglected  locks  overshadowed  his  brow, 

and  a  sadness 
Somewhat  beyond  his  years  on  his  face  was  legibly 

written. 
Gabriel  was  it,  who,  weary  with  waiting,  unhappy 

and  restless, 
Sought  in  the  Western  wilds  oblivion  of  self  and  of 

sorrow. 


48  EVANGELIXE. 

Swittly  they  glided  along,  close  under  the  lee  of 

(lie  island, 
But  by  the  o|>|>osite  bank,  and  behind  a  screen  of 

palmettos, 
So  that    they   saw  not  the    boat,  where  it    lay 

concealed  in  the  willows, 
And  undisturbed  by  the  dash  of  their  oars,  and 

unseen,  were  the  sleepers ; 
Angel  of   God  was  there    none   to  awaken  the 

slumbering  maiden. 
Swiftly  they  glided  away,  like  the  shade  of  a  cloud 

on  the  prairie. 
After  the  sound  of  their  oars  on  the  tholes  had  died 

in  the  distance, 
As  from  a  magic  trance  the  sleepers  awoke,  and  the 

maiden 
Said  with  a  sigh  to  the  friendly  priest, — "  O  Father 

Felician  ! 
Something  says  in  my  heart  that  near  me  Gabriel 

wanders. 

Is  it  a  foolish  dream,  an   idle  and   vague  super- 
stition ? 
Or  has  an  angel  passed,  and  revealed  the  truth  to 

my  spirit '{ " 
Then,  with  a  blush,  she   added, — "Alas  for  my 

credulous  fancy ! 
Unto  cars  like  thine  such  words  as  these  Lave  no 

meaning." 
But  made  answer  the  reverend  man,  and  he  smiled 

as  he  answered, — 
"  Daughter,  thy  words  are  not  idle  ;  nor  are  they 

to  me  without  meaning. 
Feeling  is  dee])  and  still ;  and  the  word  that  floats 

on  the  surface 
Is  as  the  tossing  buoy,  that  betrays  where    the 

anchor  is  hidden. 
Therefore,  trust  to  thy  heart,  and  to  what  the  world 

calls  illusions. 
Gabriel  truly  is  near  thee  ;  for  not  far  away  to  the 

southward, 


EVAKGELINE.  49 

Jn  the  banks  of  the  Techc,  are  the  towns  of  St. 

Maur  and  St.  Martin. 
There   the   long-wandering  bride  siiall  be  given" 

a^ciin  to  her  bridegroom, 
There  tlie  long-absent  pastor  regain  his  flock  and 

his  sheepfold. 
Beautiful  is  the  land,  with  its  prairies  and  forests 

of  fruit- trees; 
Under  the  feet  a  garden  of  flowers,  and  the  bluest 

of  heavens 
Bending  above,  and  resting  its  dome  on  the  walla 

of  the  lorest. 
They  who  dwell  there  have  named  it  the  Eden  of 

Louisiana." 

And  with  these  words  of  cheer  they  arose  and 

continued  their  journey. 
Softly  the   evening  came.       The  sun  from  the 

western  horizon 
Like  a  magician  extended  his  golden  wand  o'er  the 

landscape  ; 
Twinkling  vapors  arose;  and  sky  and  water  and 

forest 
Seemed  all  on  fire  at  the  touch,  and  melted  and 

mingled  together. 
Hanging  between  two  skies,  a  cloud  with  edges  of 

silver, 
Floated  the  boat,  with  its  dripping  oars,  on  the 

motionless  water. 
Filled  was  Evangeline's  heart  with  inexpressibl 

sweetness. 
Touched  by  the  magic  spell,  the  sacred  fountain 

of  feeling 
Glowed  with  the  light  of  love,  as  the  skies  and 

waters  around  her. 

Then  from  a  neighbouring  thicket  the  mocking- 
bird, wildest  of  singers, 
Swinging  aloft  on  a  willow  spray  that  hung  o'er  the 

water, 

VOL.  II.  4 


50 

Shook  from  his  little  throat  such  floods  of  delirious 

imi>i<', 
"That  the  whole  air  and  the  woods  and  the  waves 

seemed  Mient  t()  lisli-n. 

Plaintive  at   first   were    the  tones  and  sad;  then 

soar-inn  to  madness 
Seemed   tlu-v   to   follow   or   guide    the    revel   of 

frenzied  Bacchantes. 
Single  notes  were  then  heard,  in  sorrowful,  low 

lamentation  ; 
Till,   having   gathered   them   all,   he   flung   them 

abroad  in  derision, 
As  when,  alter  a  storm,  a  gust  of  wind  through  the 

tree-topi 
Shakes  down  the  rattling  rain  in  a  crystal  shower 

on  the  branches. 
With  such   a  pre'mde   as   this,  and  hearts    that 

throbbed  with  emotion, 
Slowly  they  entered  the   Techi,  where   it  flows 

through  the  green  Opelonsas, 
And  through  the  amber  air,  above  the  crest  of 

the  woodland, 

Saw  the  column  of  smoke  that  arose  from  a  neigh- 
bouring dwelling; — 
Sounds  of  a  horn  they  heard,  and   the  distant 

lowing  of  cattle. 


NEAR  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  o'crshadoTrod  bj 

oaks,  from  whose  branches 
Garlands  of  Spanish  moss  and  of  mvstic  mistletoe 

Daunted, 
Such  as  the  Druids  cut  down  with  golden  hatchets 

at  Yule-tide, 
Stood,  secluded  and  still,  the  house  of  the  hertb- 

r.ian.     A  garden 
Girded   it  round"  about  with  a  belt  of  luxuriant 

blossoms, 


EVANGELINE.  51 

Filling  Hie  air  with  fragrance.    The  house  itself 

was  of  timbers 
Hewn  from  the  eyprcss-trce,  and  carefully  fitted 

together. 
Large   and   low  was  the  roof;    and  on  slender 

columns  supported, 
Rose-wreath,  vine-encircled,  a  broad  and  spacious 

veranda, 
Ilaunt  of  the  humming-bird  and  the  bee,  extended 

around  it. 
At  each  end  of  the  house,  amid  the  flowers  of  the 

garden, 
Stationed  the  dove-cots  were,  as  love's  perpetual 

symbol, 
Scenes  of  endless  wooing,  and  endless  contentions 

of  rivals. 
Silence   reigned    o'er    the    place.      The  line  of 

shadow  and  sunshine 
Ran  near  the  tops  of  the  trees ;  but  the  house 

itself  was  in  shadow, 
And  from  its  chimney-top,  ascending  and  slowly 

expanding 
Into  the  evening  air,  a  thin  blue  column  of  smoke 

rose. 
In  the  rear  of  the  house,  from  the  garden  gate, 

ran  a  pathway 
Through  the  great  groves  of  oak  to  the  skirts  of 

the  limitless  prairie, 
Into  whose   sea   of  flowers  the   sun   was   slowly 

descending. 
Full  in  his  track  of  light,  like  ships  with  shadowy 

canvas 
Hanging  loose  from  their  spars  in  a  motionless 

calm  in  the  tropics, 

Btood  a  cluster  of  trees,  with  tangled  cordage  of 
grape-vines. 

Just  where  the  woodlands  met  the  flowery  eurf 
of  the  prairie, 


62  EVAXGELDJE. 

Mounted  upon  his  horse,  with  Spanish  saddle  avl 

stirrups 
Sat  a  luM-dsiirin,  arrayed  in  gaiters  and  doulLt 

of  deerskin. 
Broad  and  In-own  was  the  face  that  from  under  the 

Spanish  sombrero 
Gazed  on  the  peaceful  scene,  with  the  lordly  look 

of  its  master. 
Round  about  him  were  numberless  herds  of  kice, 

that  wore  grazing 
Quietly  in  the  meadows,  and  breathing  the  vapory 

freshness 
ILat  uprose  from  the  river,  and  spread  itself  over 

the  landscape. 
Slowly  lifting  the  horn  that  hung  at  his  side,  and 

expanding 
Fully  his  broad,  deep  chest,  he  blew  a  blast,  that 

resounded 
Wildly  and  sweet  and  far,  through  the  still  damp 

air  of  the  evening. 
Suddenly  out  of  the  grass  the  long  white  horns  of 

the  cattle 
Rose  like  Hakes  of  foam  on  the  adverse  currents  of 

ocean. 
Silent  a  moment  they  gazed,  then  bellowing  rushed 

o'er  the  prairie, 
And  the  whole  mass  became  a  cloud,  a  shade  in  tho 

distance. 
Then,  as  the  herdsman  turned  to  the  house,  through 

the  gate  of  the  garden 
Saw  he  the  forms  of  the  priest  and  the  maiden 

advancing  to  meot  him. 
Suddenly   down   from    his    horse    ho    sprang   in 

ama/.ement,  and  forward 
Rushed  with  extended  arms  and  exclamations  of 

wonder; 
When  they  beheld  his  face,  they  recognized  Basil 

the  Blacksmith. 
Hearty  his  welcome  was,  as  he  led  his  guests  to  the 

garden. 


EVAXGELIKE.  59 

rhe-e  in  an  arbour  of  roses  with  endless  question 

and  answer 
Gave  they  vent  to  their  hearts,  and  renewed  their 


friendly  embraces, 
hin     and 


laughing  and  weeping  by  turns,  or  sitting  silent 

and  thoughtful. 
Thoughtful,  for  Gabriel  came  not;  and  now  dark 

doubts  and  misgivings 
Stole  o'er  the  maiden's  heart;  and  Basil,  somewhat 

embarrassed, 
Broke  the  silence  and  said,  —  "  If  you  came  by  the 

Atchafalaya, 
How  have  you  nowhere  encountered  my  Gabriel's 

boat  on  the  bayous  ?  " 
Over  Evangelinc'fl  lace  at  tho  words  of  Basil  a 

shade  passed. 
Tears  came  into  her  eyes,  and  sLe  said,  with  a 

tremulous  accent,  — 
w  Gone  V    is  Gabriel  gone?"  and,  concealing  her 

face  on  his  shoulder, 
All  her  o'erburdened  heart  gave  way,  and  she  wept 

and  lamented. 
Then   the  good  Basil  said,  —  and   his  voice  grew 

blithe  as  he  said  it,  — 
•'  Be  of  good  cheer,  my  child  ;  it  is  only  to-day  he 

departed. 
Foolish  boy  !  he  has  left  me  alone  with  my  herds 

and  my  horses. 
Moody  and  restless  grown,  and  tried  and  troubled, 

his  spirit 
Could   no  longer  endure  the   calm  of  this  quiet 

existence. 
Thinking  ever  of  thce,  uncertain   and  sorrowful 

ever, 
Ever  silent,  or  speaking  only  of  thcc   and  his 

troubles, 
He  at  length  had  become  so  tedious  to  men  and  to 

maidens, 
Tedious  even  to  me,  that  at  length  I  bethought  me, 

flru]  SCllt  1-iin 


54  EVANGELINE. 

Unto  the  town  of  Adayes  to  trade  for  mules  with 

the  Spaniards. 
Tlicncc  lie   will    follow   the   Indian   trails   to  the 

O/:irk  Mountains, 
Hunting  for  furs  in  the  forests,  on  rivers  trapping 

the  heaver. 
Therefore  he  of  pood  cheer;   we  will  follow  tLe 

fugitive  lover; 
He  is  not  far  on  his  way,  and  the  Fates  and  tlia 

streams  arc  against  him. 
Up  and  away  to-morrow,  and  through  the  red  doiT 

of  the  morning 
We  will.follow  him  fast,  and  bring  him  back  to  hia 

prison." 

Then  glad  voices  were  heard,  and  up  from  the 

b;uiks  of  the  river, 
Borne  aloft  on  his  comrades'  arms,  came  Michael 

the  fiddler. 
Long  under  Basil's  roof  had  he  lived  like  a  god  on 

Olympus, 
Having  no  other  care  than  dispensing  music   to 

mortals. 
Far  renowned  was  he  for  his  silver  locks  and  hia 

fiddle. 
u  Long  live  Michael,"    they  cried,    "  our   brave 

Acadian  minstrel  1" 
As  they  bore  him  aloft  in  triumphal  procession  ; 

and  straightway 

Father  Fclician  advanced  with  Evangeline,  greet- 
ing the  old  man 
Kindly  and  oft,  and  recalling  the  past,  while  Basil, 

enraptured, 
Hailed  with  hilarious  joy  his  old  companions  and 

gossips, 
Laughing  loud  and  long,  and  embracing  mother! 

and  daughters. 
Much  they  marvelled  to  sec  the  wealth  of  the  ci- 

devaut  blacksmith, 


EVAXGELIXE.  55 

All  his  domains  and  his  herds,  and  his  patriarcha. 

demeanour ; 
Much  they  marvelled  to  hear  his  tales  of  the  soil 

and  tlie  climate, 
And  of  the  prairies,  whose  numberless  herds  were 

his  who  would  take  them  ; 
Each  one  thought  in  his  heart,  that  he,  too,  would 

go  and  do  likewise. 
Thus  they  ascended  the  steps,  and,  crossing  the 

airy  veranda, 
Entered  the  hall  of  the  house,  where  already  the 

supper  of  Basil 
Waited   his   late   return ;    and    they  rested    and 

feasted  together. 

Over  the    joyous  feast    the    sudden   darkness 
descended. 

All  was  silent  without,  and,  illuming  the  landscape 

with  silver, 
Fair  rose  the  dewy  moon  and  the  myriad  stars ; 

but  within  doors, 
Brighter  than  these,  shone  the  faces  of  friends  in 

the  glimmering  lamplight. 
Then  from  his  station  aloft,  at  the  head  of  the 

table,  the  herdsman 
Poured  forth  his  heart  and  his  wine  together  in 

endless  profusion. 
Lighting   his  pipe,    that  was    filled    with    sweet 

Natchitoches  tobacco, 
Thus  he  spake  to  his  guests,  who  listened,  and 

smiled  as  they  listened  : — 
"Welcome  once  more,  my  friends,  who  so  long 

have  been  friendless  and  homeless, 
Welcome  once  more  to  a  home,   that   is   better 

perchance  than  the  old  one  ! 
Here  no  hungry  winter  congeals  our  blood  like  the 

rivers ; 
Hero  no  stony  ground  provokes  the  wrath  of  the 

farmer. 


66  EVAXGELIXE. 

Smoothly  the  ploughshare  runs  through  the  soil  ai 

a  keel  through  the  water. 
All    the    year    round  the  orange-groves    are    io 

blossom ;  and  grass  grows 
More  in   a   single   night  than  a  \vholc  Canadian 

summer. 
Here,   too,  numberless  herds   run   wild   and   un 

claimed  in  the  prairie-; 
Here,  too,  lands  may  he  had  for  the  asking,  and 

forests  of  timber 
With  a  few  blows  of  the  axe  arc  hewn  and  framed 

into  houses. 
After  your  houses  are  built,  and  your  fields  are 

yellow  with  harvests, 
No  King  George  of  England  shall  drive  you  away 

from  your  homesteads, 
Burning  your  dwellings  and  barns,  and  stealing 

your  farms  and  your  cattle." 
Speaking  these  words,  he  blew  a  wrathful  cloud 

from  lu's  nostrils, 
And  his  huge,  brawny  hand  came  thundering  down 

on  the  table, 
So  that  the  guests  all  started  ;  and  Father  Feliciac, 

astounded, 
Suddenly  paused,  with  a  pinch  of  snuff  half-way 

to  his  nostrils. 
But  the  brave  Basil  resumed,  and  his  words  wcro 

milder  and  gayer:  — 
•*  Only  beware  of  the  fever,  my  friends,  beware  of 

the  fever ! 

For  it  is  not  like  that  of  our  cold  Acadian  clim- 
ate, 
Cured  by  wearing  a  spider  hung  round  one's  neck 

in  a  nutshell  !" 
Then  there  were  voices  heard  at  the  door,  and 

footsteps  approachm;; 
Sounded  upon  the  stairs  and  the  floor  of  the  breezy 

veranda. 
It  was  the  neighbouring  Creoles  and  small  Acadian 

planters, 


EVAXGELIXE.  57 

Who  had  been  f  ummoncd  all  to  the  house  of  Basil 

the  Herdsman. 
Merry  the  meeting  was  of  ancient  comrades  and 

neighbours : 
Friend  clasped  friend  in  his  arms ;  and  they  who 

before  were  as  strangers, 
Meeting  in  exile,  became  straightway  as  friends  to 

each  other, 
Drawn  by  the  gentle  bond  of  a  common  country 

together. 
But  in  the  neighbouring  hall   a  strain  of  music, 

proceeding 
From  the  accordant  strings  of  Michael's  melodious 

fiddle, 
Broke  up  all  further  speech.     Away,  like  children 

delighted, 
All  things  forgotten  beside,  they  gave  themselves 

to  the  maddening 
Whirl  of  the  dizzy  dance,  as  it  swept  and  swayed 

to  the  mtisie, 
Dreamlike,  with  beaming  eyes  and  the  rush  of 

fluttering  garments. 

Meanwhile,  apart,  at  the  head  of  the  hall,  tb.6 

priest  and  the  herdsman 
Sat,  conversing  together  of  past  and  present  and 

future ; 
While  F.vangclino  stood  like  one  entranced,  fop 

within  her 
Olden  memories  rose,  and  loud  in  the  midst  of  the 

music 

Heard  she  the  sound  of  the  sea,  and  an  irrepress- 
ible sadness 
Came  o'er  her  heart,  and  unseen  she  stole  forth 

into  the  garden. 
Beautiful  was  the    night.     Behind  the  black  wall 

of  the  forest, 
Tipping  its  summit  with  silver,  arose  the 

On  the  river 


58  EVAXGELIXE. 

Fell  here  and  there  through  the  branches  a  tremu- 
lous irleam  of  the  moonlight, 

Like  the  sweet  thoughts  of  love  on  a  darkened  and 
devious  spirit. 

Nearer  and  round  about  her,  the  manifold  flowers 
of  the  garden 

Poured  out  their  souls  in  odors,  that  were  their 
prayers  and  confessions 

Unto  the  night,  as  it  went  its  way,  like  a  silent 
Carthusian. 

Fuller  of  fragrance  than  they,  and  as  heavy  with 
shadows  and  night-dews, 

Hung  the  heart  of  the  maiden.  The  calm  and  the 
magical  moonlight 

Seemed  to  inundate  her  soul  with  indefinable 
longings, 

As,  through  the  garden  gate,  beneath  the  brown 
shade  of  the  oak-trees, 

Passed  she  along  the  path  to  the  edge  of  the  meas- 
ureless prairie. 

Silent  it  lay,  with  a  silvery  haze  upon  it,  and  fire- 
flies 

Gleaming  and  floating  away  in  mingled  and  infinite 
numbers. 

Over  her  head  the  stars,  the  thoughts  of  God  in  the 
heavens, 

Shone  on  the  eyes  of  man,  who  had  ceased  to 
marvel  and  worship, 

Save  when  a  blazing  comet  was  seen  on  the  walls 
of  that  temple, 

As  if  a  hand  had  appeared  and  written  upon  them, 
"  Upharsin." 

And  the  soul  of  the  maiden,  between  the  stars  and 

the  li:v-llies, 
Wandered   alone,  and   she   cried, — "O    Gabriel! 

O  my  beloved  ! 
Art    tliou    so   near   unto   me,  and   yet  I  cannot 

behold  thee  ? 
Art  thou  so  near  unto  me^  and  yet  thy  voice  doeJ 

uot  reach  me  ? 


EVANGELINE.  55 

Ah  !  how  often  thy  feet  have  trod  this  path  to  the 

prairie ! 
Ah!  how  often  thine  eyes  have  looked  on  the 

woodlands  around  me ! 
Ah  I   how  often  beneath  this  oak,  returning  from 

labor, 
Thou  hast  lain  down  to  rest,  and  to  dream  of  me 

in  thy  slumbers. 
Whsn   shall    these   eyes    behold,  these  arms  be 

folded  about  th'ee  ?  " 
Loud  and  sudden  and  near  the  note  of  a  whippoor- 

will  sounded 
Like  a  flute  in  the  woods ;  and  anon,  through  the 

neighbouring  thickets, 
Farther  and  farther  away  it  floated  and  dropped 

into  silence. 
M  Patience ! "   whispered  the   oaks  from  oracular 

caverns  of  darkness ; 
And,  from  the  moonlit  meadow,  a  sigh  responded, 

"  To-morrow  ! " 

Bright  rose  the  sun  next  day ;  and  all  the  flowers 

of  the  garden 
Bathed .  his    shining    feet   with   their  tears,  and 

anointed  his  tresses 
With  the  delicious  balm  that  they  bore  in  their 

vases  of  crystal. 
"Farewell!"   said  the  priest,  as  he  stood  at  the 

shadowy  threshold ; 
**  See  that  jou  bring  us  the  Prodigal  Son  from 

his  fasting  and  famine, 
And,  too,  the  Foolish  Virgin,  who  slept  when  the 

bridegroom  was  coming." 
"Farewell!"  answered  the  maiden,  and,  smiling, 

with  Basil  descended 
Down  to  the    river's  brink,   where  \he  boatmen 

already  were  waiting. 
Thus  beginning  their  journey  with  morning,  and 

sunshine,  and  gladness, 


60  EVAXGELIXE. 

Swiftly  they  followed   tlic  flight  of  Lira  who  was 

speeding  before  them. 
Blown  by  tin:  blast  of  fate  like  a  dead  leaf  over  tho 

desert. 
Not  that  day,  nor  the  next,  nor  yet  the  day  tliat 

succeeded, 
Found  they  trace  of  his  course,  in  lake  or  forest  or 

river, 
Nor,  after  many  days,  had  they  found  him ;   but 

vague  and  uncertain 
Rumors  alone  were  their  guides  through  a  wild  and 

desolate  country; 
Till,  at   the   little   inn  of  the   Spanish   town   cf 

Adayes, 
Weary  and' worn,  they  alighted,  and  learned  from 

the  garrulous  landlord, 
That  on   the  day  lie-lore,  with  horses  and  guides 

and  companions, 
Gabriel  left  the  village,  and  took  the  road  of  the 

prairies. 


FAR  in  the  West  there  lies  a  desert  land,  where 
the  mountains 

Lift,  through  perpetual  snows,  their  lofty  and  lum- 
inous summits. 

Down  from  their  jagged,  deep  ravines,  where  the 
gorge,  like  a  gateway, 

Opens  a  passage;  rude  to  the  wheels  of  the  emi- 
grant's wagon, 

Westward  the  Oregon  flows  and  the  Wallewaj 
and  Owyhee. 

Eastward,  with  devious  course,  among  the  Wind- 
river^Moiiiitaiiis, 

Through  the"  Sweet-water  Valley  precipitate  leaps 
the  Nebraska  ; 

And  to  the  south,  from  Foutaine-^ui-bout  and  tha 
Spanish  sierras, 


EVAXGELIXE.  61 

Fretted  with  sands  and  rocks,  and  swept  by  the 

wind  of  the  desert, 
Numberless  torrents,  with  ceaseless  sound,  descend 

to  the  ocean, 
Like  the  great  chords  of  a  harp,  in  loud  and  solemn 

vibrations, 
Spreading   between  these   streams  are   the   won* 

drous,  beautiful  prairies, 
Billowy  bays  of  grass  ever  rolling  in  shadow  and 

sunshine, 
Bright  witli  luxuriant  clusters  of  roses  and  purple 

amorphas. 
Over  them  wander  the  buffalo  herds,  and  the  elk 

anil  the  roebuck; 

Over  them  wander  the  wolves,  and  herds  of  rider- 
less horses ; 
Fires  that   blast   and  blight,  and   winds  that  ere 

weary  with  travel ; 

Over  them  wander  the  scattered  tribes  of  Ishmael'a 
'  children, 

Staining  the  desert  with  blood ;  and  above  their 

terrible  war-trails 
Circles   and   sails  aloft,  on   pinions  majestic,  the 

vulture, 
Like  the  implacable  soul  of  a  chieftain  slaughtered 

in  battle, 
By  invisible    stairs    ascending    and    scaling  the 

heavens. 
Here  ami  there  rise  smokes  from  the  camps  of 

these  savage  marauders; 
Here  anil   there  rise  groves  from  the  margins  of 

swift-running  rivers  ; 
And  the  grim,  taciturn  bear,  the  anchorite  monk 

of  the  desert, 
Climbs  down  their  dark  ravines  to  dig  for  roots  by 

the  brook -side, 
And  over  all  is  the  sky,  the  clear  and  crystalline 

heaven, 
Like  the  protecting  hand  of  Cod  inverted  above 

them. 


62  EVAXGF.LIXE. 

Into  tliis  wondorful  land,  at  the  base  of  the  Ozark 

Mountains, 
Gabriel  liir  had  entered,  with  hunters  and  trapperi 

behind  linn. 
Day  after  day,  with  their  Indian  guides,  the  maiden 

and  Basil 
Followed  liis  Hying  steps,  and  thought  each  day  to 

o'ertake  him. 
Sometimes   they  saw,  or  thought  they  saw,  the 

smoke  of  his  camp-fire- 
Rise  in  the  morning  air  from  the  distant  plain,  but 

at  nightfall, 
When  they  had  reached  the  place,  they  found  only 

embers  and  ashes. 
And,  though  their  hearts  were  sad  at  times  and 

their  bodies  were  weary, 
Hope  still  guided  them  on,  as  the  magic  Fata 

Morgana 
Showed  tliein  her  lakes  of  light,  that  retreated  and 

vanished  before  them. 

Once,  as  they  sat  by  their  evening  fire,  there 

silently  entered 
Into  the   little  camp  an   Indian    woman,  whose 

features 
Wore  deep  traces  of  sorrow,  and  patience  as  great 

as  her  sorrow. 
She  was  a  Shawnee  woman  returning  home  to  her 

people, 
From   the   far-off   hunting-grounds    of  the    cruel 

Camanchcs, 
Where  her  Canadian  husband,  a  Coureur-dcs-Boia, 

had  been  murdered. 

Touched  were  their  hearts  at  her  story,  and  warm- 
est and  friendliest  welcome 
Gave  they,  with  words  of  cheer,  and  she  sat  and 

feasted  among  them 
On  the  builalo-meat  and  the  venison  cooked  on  the 

embers. 


EVAXGELIXE.  63 

But  when  their  meal  was  done,  anil  Basil  and  all 

his  companions!, 
Worn  with  the  long  day's  march  and  the  chase  of 

the  deer  and  the  bison, 
Stretched   themselves  on   the    ground,   and  slept 

where  the  quivering  (ire-light 
Flashed  on  their  swarthy  cheeks,"  and  their  forma 

wrapped  up  in  their  blankets, 
Then  at  the  door  of  Evangcline's  tent  she  sat  and 

repeated 
Slowly,  with  soft,  low  voice,  and  the  charm  of  her 

Indian  accent, 
All  the   tale  of  her  love,  with  its  pleasures,  and 

pains,  and  reverses. 
Much  Evangcline  wept  at  the  tale,  and  to  know 

that  another 
Hapless  heart  like  her  own  had  loved  and  had  been 

disappointed. 
Moved  to    the  depths  of  her  soul    by  pity  and 

woman's  compassion, 
Yet  in  her    sorrow   pleased  that    one    who    had 

•offered  was  near  her, 

She  in  turn   related  her  love   and  all  its  disas- 
ters. 
Mute  with  wonder  the  Shawnee  sat,  and  when  she 

had  ended 
Still  was  mute ;  but  at  length,  as  if  a  mysterious 

horror 
Passed  through  her  brain,  she  spake,  and  repeated 

the  talc  of  the  Mowis ; 
Mowis,  the   bridegroom  of  snow,  who  won    and 

wedded  a  maiden, 
But,  when  the  morning  came,  arose  and  passed 

from  the  wigwam, 
Fading  and  melting  away  and  dissolving  into  the 

sunshine, 
Till  she  beheld  him  no  more,  though  she  followed 

far  into  the  forest. 
Then,  in  those  sweet,  low  tone*^  that  seemed  like  a 

•weird  incantation 


64  EVAXGELIXE. 

Told   she   the   talc  of  the  fair   Lilinau,  who  was 

wooed  by  a  phantom, 
Xhat,  through  the  pines  o'er  licr  father's  lodge,  in 

the  hush  of  the  twilight, 
Breathed  like  the  evening  wind,  and  whispered  love 

to  the  maiden. 
Till   she   followed   his  green   and  waving  plume 

through  the  forest, 
And  never  more  returned,  nor  was  seen  again  by 

her  people. 

Silent  with    wonder  and  strange  surprise,  Evan- 
line  listened 
To  the  soft  How  of  her  magical   words,  till  the 

region  around  her 
Seemed  like  enchanted  ground,  and  her  swarthy 

guest  the  enchantress. 
Slowly  over  the  tops  of  the  Ozark  Mountains  the 

moon  rose, 
Lighting  the   little  tent,  and  with  a  mysterious 

splendor 
Touching  the  sombre  leaves,  and  embracing  and 

filling  the  woodland. 
TVith  a  delicious  sound  the  brook  rushed  by,  and 

the  brandies 
Swayed  ami  sighed  overhead  in  scarcely  audible 

whispers. 
Filled  with  the  thoughts  of  love  was  Evangeline'a 

heart,  but  a  secret. 

Subtle  sense  crept  in  of  pain  and  indefinite  ter- 
ror, 
As  the  cold,  poisonous  snake  creeps  into  the  nest 

of  the  swallow. 
It  was  no  earthly  fear.     A  breath  from  the  region 

of  spirits 
Seemed  to  lloat  in  the  air  of'night ;  and  she  felt  for 

a  moment 
That,  like  the  Indian  maid,  she,  too,  was  pursuing 

a  phantom. 
And  with  this  thought  she  slept,  and  the  fear  and 

the  phantom  had  vanished. 


EVANGELINE.  65 

Early  upon  the  morrow  the  march  was  resumed; 

and  the  Shawnec 
Said,  as  they  journeyed  along, — "  On  the  western 

slope  of  these  mountains 
Dwells  in  his  little  village  the  Black  Robe  chief  of 

the  Mission. 
Much  he   teaches  the  people,  and  tells  them  of 

Liar}'  and  Jesus ; 
Loud  laugh  their  hearts  with  joy,  and  weep  with 

pain,  as  they  hear  him." 
Then,  with  a  sudden  and  secret  emotion,  Evan- 

geline  answered,— - 
u  Let  us  go  to  the  Mission,  for  there  good  tidings 

await  us!" 
Thither  they  turned  their  steeds;  and  behind  a 

spur  of  the  mountains, 
Just  as  the  sun  went  down,  they  heard  a  murmur 

of  voices, 
And  in  a  meadow  green  and  broad,  by  the  bank 

of  a  river, 
Saw  the  tents  of  the  Christians,  the  tents  of  the 

Jesuit  Mission. 
Under  a  towering  oak,  that  stood  in  the  midst  of 

the  village, 
Knelt  the  Black  Robe  chief  with  his  children.    A 

crucifix  fastened 
High  on  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and  overshadowed 

by  grape-vines, 
Jxwked  with  its  agonized  face  on  the  multitude 

kneeling  beneath  it 
This  was  their  rural  chapel.     Aloft,  through  the 

intricate  arches 

Of  its  aerial  roof,  arose  the  chant  of  their  ves- 
pers, 
Mingling  its  notes  with  the  soft  susurrus  and  sighs 

of  the  branches. 
Silent,  with  heads  uncovered,  the  travellers,  nearer 

approaching, 
VOI-  II.  5 


66  EVAXGELINE. 

Knelt  on  the  swarded  floor,  and  joined  in  the 
evening  devotions. 

But  when  the  service  was  done,  and  the  benedic- 
tion had  fallen 

Forth  from  the  hands  of  the  priest,  like  seed  from 
the  hands  of  the  sower, 

Flowly  the  reverend  man  advanced  to  the  stran- 
gers, and  bade  them 

Welcome ;  and  when  they  replied,  he  smiled  with 
benignant  expression, 

Hearing  the  homelike  sounds  of  his  mother-tongue 
m  the  forest, 

And  with  words  of  kindness  conducted  them  into 
his  wigwam. 

There  upon  mats  and  skins  they  reposed,  and  on 
cakes  of  the  maize-ear 

Feasted,  and  slaked  their  thirst  from  the  water- 
gourd  of  the  teacher. 

Soon  was  their  story  told;  and  the  priest  with 
solemnity  answered : — 

"Not  six  suns  have  risen  and  set  since  Gabriel, 
seated 

On  this  mat  by  my  side,  where  now  the  maiden 
reposes, 

Told  me  this  same  sad  tale ;  then  arose  and  con- 
tinued his  journey  1 " 

Soft  was  the  voice  of  the  priest,  and  he  spake  with 
an  accent  of  kindness; 

But  on  Evangeline's  heart  fell  his  words  as  ill 
winter  the  snow-Hakes 

Fall  into  some  lone  nest  from  which  the  birda  havs 
departed. 

u  Far  to  the  north  he  has  gone,"  continued  the 
priest ;  "  but  in  autumn, 

When  the  chase  is  done,  will  return  again  to  the 
Mission." 

Then  Evangcline  said,  and  her  voice  was  meek 
ami  submissive, — 

"  Let  me  remain  with  thee,  for  my  soul  is  sad  and 
afflicted." 


KVAXGELINE.  « 

Bo  seemed  it  wise  and  well  unto  all ;  and  betimes 

on  the  morrow, 
Mounting  his  Mexican  steed,  with  bis  Indian  guides 

and  companions, 
Homeward  Basil  returned,  and  Evangeline  stayed 

at  the  Mission. 

Slowly,  slowly,  slowly  the  days  succeeded  each 

other, — 
Days  and  weeks  and  months;  and  the  fields  of 

maize  that  were  springing 
Green  from  the  ground  when  a  stranger  she  came, 

now  waving  above  her, 
Lifted  their  slender  shafts,  with  leaves  interlacing, 

and  forming 

Cloisters  for  mendicant  crows  and  granaries  pil- 
laged by  squirrels. 
Then  in  the  golden  weather  the  maize  was  husked, 

and  the  maidens 
Blushed  at  each  blood-red  ear,  for  that  betokened 

a  lover, 
But  at  the  crooked  laughed,  and  called  it  a  thief 

in  the  corn-field. 
Even  the  blood-red  ear  to  Evangeline  brought  not 

her  lover. 
"Patience!"  the  priest  would  say;  "have  faith, 

and  thy  prayer  will  be  answered  ! 
Look  at  this  delicate  plant  that  lifts  its  head  from 

the  meadow, 
Bee  how  its  leaves  all  point  to  the  north,  as  true  as 

the  magnet; 
It  ia  the  compass-flower,  that  the  finger  of  God  haa 

suspended 
Here  on  ita  fragile  stalk,  to  direct  the  traveller*! 

journey 
Over  the  sea-like,  pathless,  limitless  waste  of  the 

desert 
Buch  in  the  soul  of  man  is  faith.    The  blossoms  of 

passion, 


68  EVAKGELINE. 

Gay  and  luxuriant  flowers,  arc  brighter  and  fullci 

of  fragrance, 
But  they  beguile  us,  and  lead  us  astray,  and  their 

odor  is  deadly. 
Only  this  humble  plant  can  guide  us  here,  and 

hereafter 
Crown  us  with  asphodel  flowers,  that  are  wet  with 

the  dews  of  nepenthe." 

So  came  the  autumn,  and  passed,  and  the  winter 

— yet  Gabriel  came  not; 
Blossomed  the  opening  spring,  and  the  notes  of  ths 

robin  and  blue-bird 
Sounded  sweet  upon  wold  and  in  wood,  yet  Gabriel 

came  not. 
But  on  the  breath  of  the  summer  -winds  a  rumor 

was  wafted 
Sweeter  than   song  of  bird,  or  hue  or  odor  of 

blossom. 
Far  to  the  north  and  east,  it  said,  in  the  Michigan 

forests, 
Gabriel  had  his  lodge  by  the  banks  of  the  Saginaw 

river. 
And,  with  returning  guides,  that  sought  the  lakes 

of  St  Lawrence, 
Saying  a  sad  farewell,  Evangeline  went  from  the 

Mission. 
When  over  weary  ways,  by  long    and  perilooi 

marches, 

She  had  attained  at  length  the  depths  of  tie  Michi- 
gan forests, 
Found  she  the  hunter's  lodge  deserted  and  fallen  to 

ruin  1 

Thus  did  the  long  sad  years  glide  on,  and  in 

seasons  and  places 
Divers  and  distant  for  was  seen   the  wandering 

maiden ; — 
Now  in  the  tents  of  grace  of  die  meek  Moravian 

Missions, 


EVANGELINE.  69 

Now  in  the  noisy  camps  and  the  battle-fields  of 

the  army, 
Now  in  secluded  hamlets,  in  towns  and  populous 

cities. 
Like  a  phantom  she  came,  and  passed  away  un 

remembered. 
Fair  was  she  and  young,  when  in  hope  began  tho 

long  journey ; 
Faded  was  she  and  old,  when  in  disappointment  it 

ended. 
Each  succeeding  year  stole  something  away  from 

her  beauty, 
Leaving  behind  it,  broader  and  deeper,  the  gloom 

and  the  shadow. 
Then  there  appeared  and  spread  faint  streaks  of 

gray  o'er  her  forehead, 
Dawn  of  another  life,  that  broke  o'er  her  earthly 

horizon, 
As  in  the  eastern  sky  the  first  faint  streaks  of  the 

morning. 


IN  that  delightful  land  which  is  washed  by  the 

Delaware's  waters, 
Guarding  in  sylvan  shades  the  name  of  Penn  the 

apostle, 
Stands  on   the  banks  of  its  beautiful  stream  the 

city  he  founded. 
There  all  the  air  is  balm,  and  the  peach  is  th 

emblem  of  beauty, 
And  the  streets  still  reecho  the  names  ol  the  tree* 

of  the  forest, 
As  if  they  fain  would  appease  the  Dryads  whose 

haunts  they  molested. 
There    from    the    troubled    sea  had   Evangeline 

landed,  an  exile, 
finding  among  the  children  of  Penn  a  home  and 

a  country. 


TO  KVANGELIXE. 

fhere  o.d  Knn6  Leblanc  had  died ;  and  when  ha 
departed, 

Saw   at   his   sido    only  one   of   all  his  hundred 

descendants. 
Something  at  least  there  was  in  the  friendly  strectj 

of  the  ciiy, 
Something  that  spake  to  her  heart,  and  made  hei 

no  longer  a  stranger  ; 
And  her  ear  was  pleased  with  the  Thee  and  Thoa 

of  the  Quakers, 

For  it   recalled  the  past,  the  old  Acadian  coun- 
try, 
Where  all  men  were  equal,  and  all  were  brothers 

and  sisters. 
So,   when   the  fruitless   search,   the   disappointed 

endeavour, 

Ended,  to  recommence  no  more  upon  earth,  un- 
complaining, 
Thither,  as  loaves  to  the  light,  were  turned  her 

thoughts  and  her  footsteps. 
As  from  a  mountain's  top  the  rainy  mists  of  the 

morning 
Roll   away,  and  afar  we  behold    the    landscape 

below  us, 
Sun-illumined,  with  shining  rivers  and  cities  and 

hamlets, 
So  fell  the  mists  from  her  mind,  and  she  saw  tho 

world  far  below  her, 
Dark  no  longer,  but  all  illumined  with  love ;  and 

the  pathway 
Which  she  had  climbed  so  far,  lying  smooth  and 

fair  in  the  distance. 
Gabriel  was  not  forgotten.     Within  her  heart  was 

his  image, 
Clothed   in  tlie  beauty  of  love  and  youth,  as  last 

she  be  held  him, 
Only  more  beautiful  made  by  his  deathlike  silence 

and  absence. 
Intc  her  thoughts  of  him  time  entered  not,  for  it 

was  not. 


EVANGELISE  7* 

Over  him  years  liad  np  power ;  he  was  not  changed, 

cut  transfigured ; 
He  had  become  to  her  heart  as  one  who  is  dead, 

and  not  absent ; 
Patience  and  abnegation  of  self,  and  devotion  to 

others, 
This  was  the  lesson  a  life  of  trial  and  sorrow  had 

taught  her. 
Bo  was  her  love  diffused,  but,  like  to  some  odorous 

Bpices, 
Suffered  no  waste  nor  loss,  though  filling  the  air 

with  aroma. 
Other  hope  had  she  none,  nor  wish  in  life,  but  to 

follow 
Meekly,  with  reverent  steps,  the  sacred  feet  of 

her  Saviour. 
Thus  many  years  she  lived  as  a  Sister  of  Mercy ; 

frequenting 
Lonely  and  wretched  roofs  in  the  crowded  lanea 

of  the  city, 
Where  distress  and  want  concealed   themselves 

from  the  sunlight, 
Where   disease  and  sorrow  in  garrets  languished 

neglected. 
Night  after  night,  when  the  world  wad  asleep,  aa 

the  watchman  repeated 
Loud,  through  the  gusty  streets,  that  all  was  well 

in  the  city, 
Iligh  at  some  lonely  window  he  saw  the  light  of 

her  taper. 
Day  after  day,  in  the  gray  of  the  dawn,  as  slow 

through  the  suburbs 
Flodded   the   German   farmer,   with  flowers    and 

fruits  for  the  market, 
Met  he  that  mock,  pale  face,  returning  home  from 

its  watchings. 

Then  it  came  to  pass  that  a  pestilence  fell  at, 
the  city, 


72  EVANOELIXE. 

Presaged  by  wondrous  signs,  and  mostly  by  flock* 

of  wild  pigeons, 
Darkening  the  sun  in  their  flight,  with  naught  in 

their  craws  but  an  acorn. 
And,  as  the  tides  of  the  sea  arise  in  the  nnnth  of 

September, 
Flooding  some  silver  stream,  till  it  spreads  to  • 

lake  in  the  meadow, 
80  death  flooded  life,  and,  o'crflowing  its  natural 

margin, 
Spread  to  a  brackish  lake,  the  silver  stream  of 

existence. 
Wealth   had   no  power .  to  bribe,  nor  beauty  to 

charm,  the  oppressor ; 
Hut  all  perished  alike  beneath  the  scourge  of  his 

angor ; — 
Only,  alas !  the  poor,  who  had  neither  friends  nor 

attendants, 
Crept  away  to  die  in  the  ahnshouse,  homo  of  the 

homeless. 
Then  in   the   suburbs  it  stood,  in   the   midst  of 

meadows  and  woodlands  ; — 

Now  the  city  surrounds  it;  but  still,  with  its  gate- 
way and  wicket 
Meek,  in  the  midst  of  splendor,  Its  humble  walls 

seem  to  echo 
Softly  the  words  of  the   Lord : — "  The   poor  ye 

always  have  with  you." 
Tb'ther,  by  night  and  by  day,  came  the  Sister  of 

Mercy.     The  dying 
Looked  up  into  her  face,  and  thought,  indeed,  to 

behold  thore 
Gleams  of  celestial  light  encircle  her  forehead  with 

F]>lt>ndor, 
Such  as  the  artist  paints  o'er  the  brows  of  saints 

and  apostles, 
Or  such  as  Langs  by  night  o'er  a  city  seen  at  a 

distance. 


EVANGELINE.  74 

Unto  their  eyes  it  seemed  the  lamps  of  the  city 

celestial, 
Into  whose  shining  gates  ere  long  their  spirits  would 

enter. 

Thus,  on  a  Sabbath  morn,  through  the  streets, 

deserted  and  silent, 
Wending  her  quiet  way,  she  entered  the  door  of 

the  alinshouse. 
Sweet  on  the  summer  air  was  the  odor  of  flowers 

in  the  garden ; 
A.nd  she  paused  on  her  way  to  gather  the  fairest 

among  them, 
That  the  dying  once  more  might  rejoice  in  their 

fragrance  and  beauty, 
Then,  as  she  mounted  the  stairs  to  the  corridors, 

cooled  by  the  east  wind, 
Distant  and  soft  on  her  ear  fell  the  chimes  from 

the  belfry  of  Christ  Church, 
While,  intermingled  with  these,  across  the  meadows 

were  wafted 
Sounds  of  psalms,  that  were  sung  by  the  Swedes 

in  their  Church  at  Wicaco. 
Soft  as  descending  wings  fell  the  calm  of  the  hour 

on  her  spirit ; 
Something  within  her  said, — "  At  length  thy  trials 

are  ended  " ; 
And,  with   light  in   her  looks,  she   entered  the 

chambers  of  sickness. 
Noiselessly   moved    about    the  assiduous,   careful 

attendants, 
Moistening  the  feverish  lip,  and  the  aching  brow, 

and  in  silence 

Closing  the  sightless  eyes  of  the  dead,  and  conceal- 
ing their  faces, 
Where  on  their  pallets  they  lay,  like  drifts  of  snow 

by  the  road-side. 
Many  a  languid   head,  upraised    as   Evangeline 

entered, 


74  KVANGELIXE. 

Turned  en  its  pillow  of  pain  to  gaze  while  she 
passed,  for  her  presence 

Fell  on  their  hearts  like  a  ray  of  the  sun  on  the 
.  walls  of  a  prison. 

And,  as  she  looked  around,  she  saw  how  Death, 
the  consoler, 

Laying  his  hand  upon  many  a  heart,  had  healed  it 
forever. 

Many  familiar  forms  had  disappeared  in  the  night- 
time; 

Vacant  their  places  were,  or  filled  already  bj 
strangers. 

Suddenly,  as  if  arrested  by  fear  or  a  feeling  of 

wonder, 
Still  she  stood,  with  her  colorless  lips  apart,  while 

a  shudder 

Kan  through  her  frame,  and,  forgotten,  the  flow- 
erets dropped  from  her  fingers, 
And  from   her  eyes  and  cheeks  the    light  and 

bloom  of  the  morning. 
Then  there  escaped  from  her  lips  a  cry  of  such 

terrible  anguish, 
That  the  dying  heard  it,  and  started  up  from  their 

pillows. 
On  the  pallet  before  her  was  stretched  the  form  of 

an  old  man. 
Long,  and  thin,  and  gray  were  the   locks  that 

shaded  his  temples ; 
But,  as  he  lay  in  the  morning  light,  his  face  for  a 

moment 
Seemed  to  assume   once  more   the   forms   of  itf 

earlier  manhood ; 
So  arc  wont  to  be  changed  the  faces  of  those  who 

are  dying. 
Hot  and  red"  on  his  lips  still  burned  the  flush  of  the 

Aa  if  life,  'like  the  Hebrew,  with  blood  had 
besprinkled  its  portals, 


E-VANGELINE.  75 

That  the  Angel  of  Death  might  ace  the  sign,  and 

pass  over. 
Motionless,  senseless,  dying,  he  lay,  and  his  spirit 

exhausted   , 
Seemed  to  be  sinking  down  through  infinite  depths 

in  the  darkness, 
Darkness  of  slumber  and  death,  forever  sinking 

and  sinking. 
Then  through  those  realms  of  shade,  in  multiplied 

reverberations, 
Heard  he  that  cry  of  pain,  and  through  the  hush 

that  succeeded 
Whispered  a  gentle  voice,  in  accents  tender  and 

saint-like, 
"  Gabriel !   O  my  beloved  1 "  and  died  away  into 

silence. 
Then  he  beheld,  in  a  dream,  once  more  the  home 

of  his  childhood ; 
Green  Acadian  meadows,  with  sylvan  rivers  among 

them, 

Village,  and  mountain,  and  woodlands  ;  and,  walk- 
ing under  their  shadow, 
As  in  the  days  of  her  youth,  Evangeline  rose  in 

his  vision. 
Tears  came  into  his  eyes ;  and  as  slowly  he  lifted 

his  eyelids. 
Vanished  the  vision  away,  but  Evangeline  knelt 

by  his  bedside. 
Vainly  he   strove  to  whisper  her  name,  for  the 

accents  unuttered 
Died  on  his  lips,  and  their  motion  revealed  what 

his  tongue  would  have  spoken. 
Vainly  he  strove  to  rise ;  and  Evangeline,  kneeling 

beside  him, 
Kissed  his  dying  lips,  and  laid  his  head  on   her 

bosom. 
Sweet  was  the  light  of  his  eyes ;  but  it  suddenly 

sank  into  darkness, 
As  when  a  lamp  is  blown  out  by  o  gust  of  wind  at 

a  casement. 


76  KVAXGELINE. 

All  was  ended  now,  the  hope,  and  the  fear,  and 

the  sorrow, 
All  the  aching  of  heart,  the  restless,  unsatisfied 

longing, 
All  the  dull,  deep  pain,  and  constant  anguish  of 

patience  I 
And,  as  she  pressed  once  more  the  lifeless  head  to 

her  bosom, 
Meekly  she    bowed    her    own,    and    murmured, 

"  Father,  I  thank  thee  I " 


STILL  stands  the  forest  primeval;  but  far 

from  its  shadow, 
Side  by  side,  in  their  nameless  graves,  the  loveri 

are  sleeping. 
Under   the   humble   walls  of  the  little   Catholic 

church-yard, 
In  the  heart  of  the  city,  they  lie,  unknown  and 

unnoticed. 
Daily  the  tides  of  life  go  ebbing  and  flowing  beside 

them, 
Thousands  of  throbbing  hearts,  where  theirs  are  at 

rest  and  forever, 
Thousands  of  aching  brains,  where  theirs  no  longer 

are  busy, 
Thousands  of  toiling  hands,   where   theirs    have 

ceased  from  their  labors, 
Thousands    of   weary    feet,    where    theirs    have 

completed  their  journey  1 

Still  stands  the  forest  primeval;  but  under  the 

shade  of  its  branches 
Dwells    another    race,  with  other   customs   and 

language. 
Only  along  the  shore  of  the  mournful  and  misty 

Atlantic 
Linger  a  few  Acadian  peasants,  whose  fathers  from 

exile 
Wandered  back  to  their  native  land  to  die  in  it* 


78  KVANGELINE. 

In  the  fisherman's  cot  the  wheel  and  the  loom  ar« 

still  busy ; 
Maidens  still  wear  their  Norman  caps  and  their 

kirtlcs  of  homespun, 
And    by  the  evening  fire    repeat    Evangcline's 

story, 
While  from  its  rocky  caverns    the   deep-Toiied 

neighbouring  ocean 
Speaks,  and  in  accents  disconsolate  infiwera   the 

wail  of  the  forest. 


THE    GOLDEN    LEGEND. 
1851. 


PROLOGUE. 

THE   SPIRE   OF   8TRASBURQ   CATHEDRAL. 

Jfight  and  storm.     LUCIFER,  with  the  Powers  of  tiic  Aif 
trying  to  tear  dawn  tiie  Cross. 


HASTEN  !  hasten  I 

O  ye  spirits  1 

From  its  station  drag  the  ponderous 

Cross  of  iron,  that  to  mock  ua 

Is  uplifted  high  in  air  1 


O,  we  cannot  I 

For  around  it 

All  the  Saints  and  Guardian  Angels 

Throng  in  legions  to  protect  it ; 

They  defeat  us  everywhere ! 

THB  BELLS. 

Laudo  Deum  verum  I 
Plebem  voco  I 
Congrego  clerum ! 


Ixwcr!  lower! 

Hover  downward ! 

Seize  the  loud,  vociferous  bells,  and 

Clashing,  clanging,  to  the  pavement 

Hurl  them  from  their  windy  tower  I 

VOL.   IL  6  (81) 


82  THE   GOLDEN    LEGEND. 


All  thy  thunders 

Here  are  harmless  I 

For  these  bells  have  been  anointed, 

And  baptized  with  holy  water  I 

They  defy  our  utmost  power. 

THE  BELLB. 

Defunctos  ploro. 
Pestem  fugo  J 
Festa  decoro  I 


Shake  the  casements ! 

Break  the  painted 

Panes,  that  flame  with  gold  and  c 

Scatter  them  like  leaves  of  Autumn, 

Swept  away  before  the  blast ! 


O,  we  cannot ! 

The  Archangel 

Michael  flames  from  every  window, 

With  the  sword  of  fire  that  drove  us 

Headlong,  out  of  heaven,  aghast  1 

THE  BELLS. 

Funera  plango ! 
Fulgura  frango  I 
Sabbata  paugo  I 

LUCIFER. 

Aim  your  lightnings 

At  the  oaken, 

Massive,  iron-studded  portals  I 

Sack  the  house  of  God,  and  scatter 

Wide  the  ashes  of  the  dead  ! 


THE   GOLDEK   LEGEXD 


O,  we  cannot ! 

The  Apostles 

And  the  Martyrs,  wrapped  in  mantles, 

Stand  as  warders  at  the  entrance, 

Stand  as  sentinels  o'erhead  I 

THE  BEI.L8. 

Excito  lentos ! 
Dissipo  ventos ! 
Paco  cruentos  1 

LUCIFER. 

Baflbd !  baffled ! 

Inefficient, 

Craven  spirits  !  leave  this  labor 

Unto  Time,  the  great  Destroyer ! 

Come  away,  ere  night  is  gone  1 


Onward  !  onward ! 

"With  the  night-wind, 

Over  field  and  farm  and  forest, 

Lonely  homestead,  darksome  hamlet, 

Blighting  all  we  breathe  upon  ! 

They  swtep  away.     Organ  and  Gregorian  Chant 

CHOIR. 

Nocte  surgentes 
Vigilemus  omnes  I 


L 

TITS  C.A  871.1  I  /  VA.UTSBERQ  ON   THE   RHINE. 
A  chamber  in  a  tower.    FKINCE  HENRY,  sitting  alone,  iO 


PRIXCE  >  EXIST. 

I  CANNOT  sleep  1  my  fervvl  brain 

Calls  up  the  vanished  Pasi  ag,*un, 

And  throws  its  misty  splendor,  deep 

Into  the  pallid  realms  of  sleep  I 

A  breath  from  that  far-distant  store 

Comes  freshening  ever  more  and  aiore, 

And  waits  o'er  intervening  seas 

Sweet  odors  from  the  Ilesperides  ! 

A  wind,  that  through  the  corridor 

Just  stirs  the  curtain,  and  no  more, 

And,  touching  the  acolian  strings, 

Faints  with  the  burden  that  it  brinj-o  • 

Come  back  !  ye  friendships  long  departfcj  1 

That  like  o'erllowing  streamlets  started, 

And  now  are  dwindled,  one  by  one, 

To  stony  channels  in  the  sun  ! 

Come  back  I  ye  friends,  whose  lives  are  endt  J, 

Come  back,  with  all  that  light  attended, 

Which  seemed  to  darken  and  decay 

When  ye  arose  and  went  away  1 

They  come,  the  shapes  of  joy  and  woe, 
The  airy  crowds  of  long-ago, 
(81) 


T1IE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  «5 

The  dreamy  aiid  fancies  known  of  yore, 
That  have  been,  and  shall  be  no  more. 
They  change  the  cloisters  of  the  nighi 
Into  a  garden  of  delight; 
They  make  the  dark  and  dreary  hours 
Open  and  blossom  into  flowers  I 
I  Avould  not  sleep  !    1  love  to  be 
Again  in  their  lair  company  ; 
But  ere  my  lips  can  bid  them  stay, 
They  pass  and  vanish  quite  away  I 
Alas  !  our  memories  may  retrace 
Each  circumstance  of  time  and  place, 
Season  and  scene  come  back  again, 
And  outward  things  unchanged  remain ; 
The  rest  we  cannot  reinstate ; 
Ourselves  we  cannot  re-create, 
Nor  set  our  souls  to  the  same  key 
Of  the  remembered  harmony  1 

Rest !  rest !    O,  give  me  rest  and  peace  I 
The  thought  of  life  that  ne'er  shall  cease 
Has  something  in  it  like  despair, 
A  weight  I  am  too  weak  to  bear  1 
Sweeter  to  this  afflicted  breast 
The  thought  of  never-ending  rest  1 
Sweeter  the  undisturbed  and  deep 
Tranquillity  of  endless  sleep ! 

Aflaslt  of  lightning,  out  of  which  LUCIFER  appear$,  in  (Ju 
garb  of  a  travelling  Pltysiciar. 

LUCIFER. 

All  hail,  Prince  Henry  1 

PRINCE  IIESRT,  starting. 

Who  is  it  speaks  ? 
Who  and  what  are  you  ? 

LUCIFEB. 

One  who  seeks 
A.  moment's  audience  with  the  Prince. 


86  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

FRIXCR   IIEXUT. 

When  came  you  in  ? 

LUCIFER. 

A  moment  since. 

I  found  your  study  door  unlocked, 
And  thought  you  answered  when  I  knocked. 

FKINCB  IIEXRT. 

I  did  not  hear  you. 


You  heard  the  thunder 
It  was  loud  enough  to  waken  the  dead. 
And  it  is  not  a  matter  of  special  wonJer 
That,  when  God  id  walking  overhead, 
You  should  not  hear  my  feeble  tread. 

PRINCE  flKNIlT. 

What  may  your  wish  or  purpose  be  ? 


Nothing  or  every  thing,  as  it  pleases 
Your  Highness.     You  behold  in  me 
Only  a  travelling  Physician  ; 
One  of  the  few  who  have  a  mission 
To  cure  incurable  diseases, 
Or  those  that  are  called  so. 


The  dead  to  life  ? 


PKIXCK   IIENRY. 

Can  you  bring 


Yes  ;  very  nearly 

And,  what  is  a  wiser  and  better  thing, 
Can  keep  the  living  from  ever  needing 
Such  an  unnatural,  strange  proceeding, 
By  showing  conclusively  and  clearly 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  87 

That  doatn  is  a  stupid  blunder  merely, 

And  not  a  necessity  of  our  lives. 

My  being  here  is  accidental; 

The  storm,  that  against  your  casement  drives, 

In  the  little  village  below  waylaid  me. 

And  there  I  heard,  with  a  secret  delight, 

Of  your  maladies  physical  and  mental, 

Which  neither  astonished  nor  dismayed  me. 

And  I  hastened  hither,  though  late  in  the  night, 

To  profl'er  my  aid ! 

PRINCE  HENRY,  ironically. 

For  this  you  came  t 
An,  how  can  I  ever  hope  to  requite 
This  honor  from  one  so  erudite  i 


The  honor  is  mine,  or  will  be  when 
I  have  cured  your  disease. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

But  not  till  then. 

LUCIFER. 

What  is  your  illness  ? 

PRINCE  HENRT. 

It  has  no  name. 

A  smouldering,  dull,  perpetual  flame, 
As  in  a  kiin,  burns  in  my  veins, 
Sending  up  vapors  to  the  head; 
My  heart  has  become  a  dull  lagoon, 
Which  a  kind  of  leprosy  drinks  and  drains; 
I  am  accounted  as  one  who  is  dead, 
And,  indeed,  I  think  that  I  shall  be  soon 


And  has  Gordonius  the  Divine, 
In  his  famous  Lily  of  Medicine, — 


88  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

I  8O3  the  book  lies  open  before  you, — 
No  remedy  potent  enough  to  restore  you  ? 

PRINCE   IIESRY. 

None  whatever  1 

LUCIFER. 

The  dead  are  dead, 

And  their  oracles  dumb,  when  questioned 
Of  the  new  diseases  that  human  life 
Evolves  in  its  progress,  runic  and  rife. 
Consult  the  dead  upon  things  that  were, 
But  the  living  only  on  things  that  are. 
Have  you  done  this,  by  the  appliance 
And  aid  of  doctors  ? 

PKIXCE   I1ENRT. 

Ay,  whole  schools 

Of  doctors,  with  their  learned  rules ; 
But  tho  case  is  quite  beyond  their  science. 
Even  the  doctors  of  Sulern 
Send  me  back  word  they  can  discern 
Nb  cure  for  a  malady  like  this, 
Save  one  which  in  its  nature  ia 
Impossible,  and  cannot  be  1 

LUCIFER. 

That  sounds  oracular ! 

PRIA'CE  HEXRT 

Unendurable  I 

LUCIFER. 

What  is  their  remedy  ? 

PKIXCK   ITHNRT. 

You  shall  Bee ; 
Writ  in  this  scroll  is  the  mystery. 

LUCIFER,  reading. 

*  Hot  to  be  cured,  yet  not  incurable  1 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  .  89 

The  only  remedy  that  remains 

Is  the  blood  that  Hows  from  a  maiden's  veins, 

Who  of  her  own  free  will  shall  die, 

And  give  her  life  as  the  price  of  yours!" 

That  is  the  strangest  of  all  cures, 

And  one,  I  think,  you  will  never  try  ; 

The  prescription  you  may  well  put  by, 

As  something  impossible  to  find 

Before  the  world  itself  shall  end ! 

And  yet  who  knows  ?     One  cannot  say 

That  into  some  maiden's  brain  that  kind 

Of  madness  will  not  find  its  way. 

Meanwhile  permit  me  to  recommend, 

As  the  matter  admits  of  no  delay, 

My  wonderful  Catholicon, 

Of  very  subtile  and  magical  powers. 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

Purge  with  your  nostrums  and  drugs  infernal 
The  spouts  and  gargoyles  of  these  towers, 
Not  me  .     My  faith  is  utterly  gone 
In  every  power  but  the  Power  Supernal ! 
Pray  tell  me,  of  what  school  are  you  ? 

LUCIFER. 

Both  of  the  Old  and  of  the  New ! 
The  school  of  Hermes  Trismegistus, 
Who  uttered  his  oracles  sublime 
Before  the  Olympiads,  in  the  dew 
Of  the  early  dawn  and  dusk  of  Time, 
The  reign  of  dateless  old  Hephaestus  ! 
As  northward,  from  its  Nubian  springs, 
The  Nile,  forever  new  and  old, 
Among  the  living  and  the  dead, 
Its  mighty,  mystic  stream  has  rolled  ; 
So,  starting  from  its  fountain-head 
Under  the  lotus-leaves  of  Isin, 
From  the  dead  demigods  of  eld, 
Through  long,  unbroken  lines  of  kings 


90  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Its  course  the  sacred  art  lias  held, 
Unchecked,  unchanged  by  man's  device*. 
This  art  the  Arabian  Gebcr  taught, 
And  in  alembics,  finely  wrought, 
Distilling  herbs  and  llowers,  discovered 
The  secret  that  so  long  had  hovered 
Upon  the  misty  verge  of  Truth, 
The  Elixir  of  Perpetual  Youth, 
Called  Alcohol,  in  the  Arab  speech ! 
Like  him,  this  wondrous  lore  I  teach  ! 

PRINCE  HENBT. 

What !  an  adept  ? 

U7CIFEB. 

Nor  less,  nor  more  1 

PRINCE  HENBT. 

I  am  a  reader  of  your  books, 

A  lover  of  that  mystic  lore  I 

With  such  a  piercing  glance  it  looks 

Into  great  Nature's  open  eye, 

And  sees  within  it  trembling  lie 

The  portrait  of  the  Deity  ! 

And  yet,  alas !  with  all  my  pains, 

The  secret  and  the  mystery 

Have  baffled  and  eluded  me, 

Unseen  the  grand  result  remains  1 

LUCIFER,  thawing  ajlcuk. 
Behold  it  here !  this  little  flask 
Contains  the  wonderful  quintessence, 
The  perfect  flower  and  clllorescence, 
Of  all  the  knowledge  man  can  askl 
Hold  it  up  thus  against  the  light  1 

PRINCE  RENRT. 

How  limpid,  pure,  and  crystalline, 
How  quick,  and  tremulous,  and  bright 


THE   GOLDEN    LEGEND.  91 

The  little  wavelets  dance  and  shine, 
As  were  it  the  Water  of  Life  in  sooth! 

LUCIFER. 

Ft  is !     It  assuages  every  pain, 
Cures  all  disease,  and  gives  again 
To  age  the  swift  delights  of  youth. 
Inhale  its  fragrance. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

It  is  sweet. 

A  thousand  different  odors  meet 
And  mingle  in  its  rare  perfume, 
Such  as  the  winds  of  summer  waft 
At  open  windows  through  a  room  I 

LUCIFER. 

Will  you  not  taste  it  ? 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Will  one  draught 
buffice  ? 

LUCIFER. 

If  not,  you  can  drink  more. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Into  this  crystal  goblet  pour 
So  much  as  safely  I  may  drink 

LUCIFER,  pouring, 

Let  not  the  quantity  alarm  you  ; 
You  may  drink  all  ;'  it  will  not  harm  you. 

PRINCK  IIENRT. 

I  am  as  one  who  on  the  brink 
Of  a  dark  river  stands  and  sees 
The  waters  (low,  the  landscape  dim 
Around  him  waver,  wheel,  and  swim, 
And,  en:  he  plunges,  stops  to  think 


92  THE   GOLDKN   LEGKXD. 

Into  what  whirlpools  he  may  sink; 
One  moment  panics,  anil  no  more, 
Then  mailly  pinnies  from  the  shore1 
Beadlong  into  the  mysteries 
Oflifu  and  deal!)  I  boldly  leap, 
Nor  fear  the  fateful  current's  sweep 
Nor  what  in  ambush  lurks  below  1 
For  death  is  better  than  disease  1 

An  AXOEL  triih  an  aolian  harp  hove*    f  the  <nr 


Woe !  woe  !  eternal  woe  ! 

Not  only  the  whispered  prayer 

Of  love, 

But  the  imprecations  of  hate, 

Reverberate 

Forever  and  ever  through  the  air 

Above  1 

This  fearful  curse 

Shakes  the  great  universe  I 

LUCIFER,  disappearing. 
Drink!  drink! 
And  thy  soul  shall  sink 
Down  into  the  dark  abyss, 
Into  the  infinite  abyss, 
From  which  no  plummet  nor  rope 
Ever  drew  up  the  silver  sand  of  hope 

PRINCE  HENRT,  drinking. 
It  is  like  a  draught  of  fire ! 
Through  every  vein 
I  feel  again 

The  fever  of  youth,  the  soft  desire  ; 
A  rapture  that  is  almost  pain 
Throbs  in  mv  heart  and  fills  my  braip 
Ojoy!     Ojny!     1  feel 
The  band  of  sti-el 
That  so  long  and  heavily  has  pressed 


THE   GOLDEN    LEGEXD.  93 

Upon  my  breast 

Uplifted  and  the  malediction 

Of  my  affliction 

Is  taken  from  me,  and  my  weary  breast 

At  length  finds  rest. 


It  is  but  the  rest  of  the  fire,  from  which  the  air  has 

been  taken  ! 
It  is  but  the  rest  of  the  sand,  when  the  hour-glass  is 

not  shaken  1 
It  is  but  the  rest  of  the  tide  between  the  ebb  and 

the  flow  1 
It  is  but  the  rest  of  the  wind  between  the  flaws 

that  blow ! 

With  fiendish  laughter, 
Hereafter, 
This  false  physician 
Will  mock  thee  in  thy  perdition. 


PRINCE  HEJJRT. 

Speak !  speak ! 

Who  says  that  I  am  ill? 

I  am  not  ill  1     I  am  not  weak! 

The  trance,  the  swoon,  the  dream,  is  o'er  I 

I  feel  the  chill  of  death  no  more  1 

At  length, 

I  stand  renewed  in  all  my  strength  1 

Beneath  me  I  can  feel 

The  great  earth  stagger  and  reel, 

As  if  the  feet  of  a  descending  God 

Upon  its  surface  trod, 

And  like  a  pebble  it  rolled  beneath  his  heel! 

This,  O  brave  physician  1  this 

la  thy  great  Palingenesis ! 

Drinkt  again. 


94  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEIO). 

THE  ANGEL. 

Touch  the  goblet  no  more  I 

It  will  make  thy  h  ;art  sore 

To  its  very  core ! 

Its  perfume  is  the  breath 

Of  the  Angel  of  Death, 

And  the  light  that  within  it  lies 

Is  the  flash  of  his  evil  eyes. 

Beware  !     O,  beware ! 

For  sickness,  sorrow,  and  care 

All  are  there ! 

PRINCE  ITKNRT,  sinking  back. 

0  thou  voice  within  my  breast ! 
Why  entreat  me,  why  upbraid  me, 
"Wlic-ii  the  steadfast  tongues  of  truth 
And  the  flattering  hopes  of  youth 
Have  all  deceived  me  and  betrayed  me  ? 
Give  me,  gjve  me  rest,  O,  rest ! 
Golden  visions  wave  and  hover, 
Golden  vapors,  waters  streaming, 
Landscapes  moving,  changing,  gleaming  I 

1  am  like  a  happy  lover 

Who  illumines  life  with  dreaming  I 
Brave  physician  !  Rare  physician  I 
Well  hast  thou  fulfilled  thy  mission 

ITu  head  fall*  on  hit  book. 
THE  ANGEL,  receding. 
Alas!  alas  I 

Like  a  vapor  the  golden  vision 
Shall  fade  and  pass, 
And  thou  wilt  find  in  thy  heart  again 
Only  the  blight  of  pain, 
And  bitter,  bitter,  bitter  contrition  I 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

COURT- YARD   OF   THE   CASTLK. 
HUBERT  standing  by  (he  gateway. 


How  ead  the  grand  old  castle  looks  I 
O'erhcad,  the  unmolested  rooks 
Upon  the  turret's  windy  top 
Sit,  talking  of  the  farmer's  crop ; 
Here  in  the  court-yard  springs  the  grass, 
So  few  are  now  the  feet  that  pass  ; 
The  stately  peacocks,  bolder  grown, 
Come  hopping  down  the  steps  of  stone, 
As  if  the  castle  were  their  own  ; 
And  I,  the  poor  old  seneschal, 
Haunt,  like  a  ghost,  the  banquet-hall. 
Alas !  the  merry  guests  no  more 
Crowd  through  the  hospitable  door ; 
No  eyes  with  youth  and  passion  shine, 
No  cheeks  grow  redder  than  the  wine ; 
No  song,  no  laugh,  no  jovial  din 
Of  drinking  wassail  to  the  pin; 
But  all  is  silent,  sad,  and  drear, 
And  now  the  only  sounds  I  hear 
Are  the  hoarse  rooks  upon  the  walls, 
And  horses  stamping  in  their  stalls  1 

A  horn  sounds- 

What  ho  1  that  merry,  sudden  blast 
Reminds  me  of  the  days  long  past  I 
And,  as  of  old  resounding,  grate 
The  heavy  hinges  of  the  gate, 
And,  clattering  loud,  with  iron  clank, 
Down  goes  the  sounding  bridge  of  plank, 
As  if  it  were  in  haste  to  greet 
The  pressure  of  a  traveller's  feet ! 


98  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Enter  WALTER  the  Minnesinger. 

WALTER. 

How  now,  my  friend !     This  looks  quite  lonely ! 
No  banner  flying  from  the  walls, 
No  pages  and  no  seneschals, 
No  warders,  and  one  porter  only  I 
Is  it  you,  Hubert  ? 

HUBERT. 

Ah  1  Master  Walter ! 


Alas !  how  forms  and  faces  alter ! 

I  did  not  know  you.    You  look  older ! 

Your  hair  has  grown  much  grayer  and  thinner 

And  you  stoop  a  little  in  the  shoulder ! 

HUBERT. 

Alack !  I  am  a  poor  old  sinner, 

And,  like  these  towers,  Login  to  moulder; 

And  you  have  been  absent  many  a  year  I 


How  is  the  Prince  ? 

HUBERT. 

He  is  not  here : 
He  has  been  ill :  and  now  lias  fled. 

WALTER. 

Speak  it  out  frankly :  say  he  's  dead ! 
Is  it  not  so  ? 

HUBERT. 

No ;  if  you  please ; 
A  strange,  mysterious  disease 
Fell  on  nim  with  a  sudden  blight 
Whole  hours  together  he  would  stand 
Upon  the  terrace,  in  a  dream, 
Resting  his  head  upon  his  hand, 


THK  GOLDEN   LEGEND  97 

Best  ]>lcased  when  he  was  most  alone, 

Like  St.  John  Nepomuck  in  stone, 

Looking  down  into  a  stream. 

In  the  Round  Tower,  night  after  night, 

lie  sat,  and  bleared  his  eyes  with  books , 

Until  one  morning  we  found  him  there 

Stretched  on  the  floor,  as  if  in  a  swoon 

He  had  fallen  from  his  chair. 

We  hardly  recognized  his  sweet  looks  I 


Poor  Prince ! 

HUBERT. 

I  think  he  might  have  mended ; 
And  he  did  mend  ;  but  very  soon 
The  Priests  came  flocking  in,  like  rooks, 
With  all  their  crosiers  and  their  crooks, 
And  so  at  last  the  matter  ended. 


How  did  it  end  ? 


Why,  in  Saint  Rochus 
They  made  him  stand,  and  wait  his  doom ; 
And,  as  if  he  were  condemned  to  the  tomb, 
Began  to  mutter  their  hocus-pocus. 
Fiist,  the  Mass  for  the  Dead  they  chaunted, 
Then  three  times  laid  upon  his  head 
A  shovelful  of  church-yard  clay, 
Saying  to  him,  as  he  stood  undaunted, 
u  This  is  a  sign  that  thou  art  dead, 
So  in  thy  heart  be  penitent ! " 
And  forth  from  the  chapel  door  he  went 
Into  disgrace  and  banishment, 
Clothed  in  a  cloak  of  hodden  gray, 
And  bearing  a  wallet,  and  a  bell, 
Whose  sound  should  be  a  perpetual  knell 
To  keep  all  travellers  away. 
VOL.  U.  7 


TIIE    GOLDEN    LEGEND. 


O,  horrible  fate  !    Outcast,  rejected, 
Aa  one  with  pestilence  infected  1 


Then  was  the  family  tomb  unsealed, 
And  broken  helmet,  sword  and  shield, 
Buried  together,  in  common  wreck, 
As  is  the  custom,  when  the  last 
Of  any  princely  house  has  passed, 
And  thrice,  as  with  a  trumpet-blast, 
A  herald  shouted  down  the  stair 
The  words  of  warning  and  despair, — 
«  O  Hoheneck  I    O  Hoheneck  1 " 


Still  in  my  soul  that  cry  goes  on, — 

Forever  gone  !  forever  gone  ! 

Ah,  what  a  cruel  sense  of  loss, 

Like  a  black  shadow,  would  i'all  across 

The  hearts  of  all,  if  he  should  die  ! 

His  gracious  presence  upon  earth 

Was  as  a  fire  upon  a  hearth ; 

As  pleasant  songs,  at  morning  sung, 

The  words  that  dropped  from  his  sweet  tongue 

Strengthened  our  hearts  ;  or,  heard  at  night, 

Made  all  our  slumbers  soft  and  light. 

Where  is  he  ? 


In  the  Odcnwald. 
Some  of  his  tenants,  unappallcd 
By  fear  of  death,  or  priestly  wcrd,- 
A  holy  family,  that  make 
Each  meal  a  Supper  of  the  Lord, — 
Have  him  beneath  thoir  watch  and  ward, 
For  love  of  him,  and  Jesus'  sake  ! 
Pray  you  come  in.     For  why  should  I 
With  out-door  hospitality 
My  prince's  friend  thus  entertain  ? 


THE    GOLDEN    LEGEND. 


I  wotild  a  moment  here  remain. 
But  you,  good  Hubert,  go  before, 
Fill  me  a  goblet  of  May-drink, 
As  aromatic  as  the  May 
From  which  it  steals  the  breath  away, 
And  which  he  loved  so  well  of  yore  ; 
It  is  of  him  that  I  would  think. 
You  shall  attend  me,  when  I  call, 
In  the  ancestral  banquet-hall. 
Unseen  companions,  guests  of  air, 
You  cannot  wait  on,  will  be  there; 
They  taste  not  food,  they  drink  not  wine, 
But  their  soft  eyes  look  into  mine, 
And  their  lips  speak  to  me,  and  all 
The  vast  and  shadowy  banquet-hall 
Is  fall  of  looks  and  words  divine  1 

Leaning  over  the  parapet. 

The  day  is  done ;  and  slowly  from  the  scene 
The  stooping  sun  upgathers  his  spent  shafts, 
And  puts  them  back  into  his  golden  quiver  1 
Below  me  in  the  valley,  deep  and  green 
As  goblets  are,  from  which  in  thirsty  draughts 
We  drink  its  wine,  the  swift  and  mantling  river 
Flows  on  triumphant  through  these  lovely  regions, 
Etched  with  the  shadows  of  its  sombre  margent, 
And  soft,  reflected  clouds  of  gold  and  argent  I 
Yes,  there  it  flows,  forever,  broad  and  still, 
As  when  the  vanguard  of  the  Roman  legions 
First  saw  it  from  the  top  of  yonder  hill ! 
How  beautiful  it  is  1     Fresh  fields  of  wheat. 
Vineyard,  and  town,  and  tower  with  fluttering  flag, 
The  consecrated  chapel  on  the  crag, 
And  the  white  hamlet  gathered  round  its  base, 
Like  Mary  sitting  at  her  Saviour's  feet, 
And  looking  up  at  his  beloved  face  ! 
O  friend  !     O  best  of  friends !     Thy  absence  more 
Than  the  impending  night  darkens  the  landscape 
o'er! 


100  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 


n. 

A   FARM   IK   THE   ODEJTWALD. 

A  garden ;  mommy ;  PPIXCE  HEXRT  teated,  in&  a  book 
ELSIE,  at  a  distance,  gathering  jlowtrt. 

PRIXCK  HEXRT,  reading. 
ONTE  morning,  all  alone, 
Oat  of  his  convent  of  pray  stone, 
Into  the  forest  older,  darker,  grayer, 
His  lips  moving  as  if  in  prayer, 
His  head  sunken  upon  his  breast 
As  in  a  dream  of  rest, 
"Walked  the  Monk  Felix.     All  about 
The  broad,  sweet  sunshine  lay  without, 
Filling  the  summer  air; 
And  within  the  woodlands  as  he  trod, 
The  twilight  was  like  the  Truce  of  God 
With  worldly  woe  and  care  ; 
Under  him  lay  the  golden  moss ; 
And  above  him  the  boughs  of  hemlock-treef 
"Waved,  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
And  whispered  their  Benedicitcs  ; 
And  from  the  ground 
Hose  an  odor  sweet  and  fragrant 
Of  the  -wild-flowers  and  the  vagrant 
Vines  that  wandered, 
Seeking  the  sunshine,  round  and  round. 

These  he  heeded  not,  but  pondered 
On  the  volume  in  his  hand, 
A  volume  of  Saint  Augustine, 
Wherein  he  read  of  the  unseen 
Splendors  of  God's  great  town 
In  the  unknown  land, 
And,  with  his  eyes  cast  down 
In  humility,  he  said : 
•»  I  believe,  O  God, 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.,  101 

Whit  herein  I  have  read, 

But  alas !  I  do  not  understand !  " 

And  lo  !  he  heard 

The  sudden  sinking  of  a  bird, 

A  snow-white  bird,  that  from  a  cloud 

Dropped  down, 

And  among  the  branches  brown 

Sat  singing 

So  sweet,  and  «lear,  and  loud, 

It  seemed  a  thousand  harp-strings  ringing. 

And  the  Monk  Felix  closed  his  book, 

And  long,  long, 

With  rapturous  look, 

He  listened  to  the  song, 

And  hardly  breathed  or  stirred, 

Until  he  saw,  as  in  a  vision, 

The  land  Elysian, 

And  in  the  heavenly  city  heard 

Angelic  feet 

Fall  on  the  golden  flagging  of  the  street 

And  he  would  fain 

Have  caught  the  wondrous  bird, 

But  strove  in  vain  ; 

For  it  flew  away,  away, 

Far  over  hill  and  dell, 

And  instead  of  its  sweet  singing 

He  heard  the  convent  bell 

Suddenly  in  the  silence  ringing 

For  the  service  of  noonday. 

And  he  retraced 

His  pathway  homeward  sadly  and  in 

In  the  convent  there  was  a  change  1 
He  looked  for  each  well-known  face, 
But  the  faces  were  new  and  strange ; 
New  figures  sat  in  the  oaken  stalls, 
New  voiced  chaunted  in  the  choir; 
Yet  the  place  was  the  same  place, 
The  same  dusky  walla 


102  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Of  cold,  gray  stone, 

The  same  cloisters  and  belfry  and  spire. 

A  stranger  and  alone 

Among  that  brotherhood 

The  Monk  Felix  stood. 

"  Fortj  years,"  said  a  Friar, 

"  Have  I  been  Prior 

Of  this  convent  in  the  wood, 

But  for  that  space 

Never  have  1  beheld  thy  face  I" 

The  heart  of  the  Monk  Felix  fell : 

And  he  answered,  with  submissive  tone, 

"  This  morning,  after  the  hour  of  Prime 

I  left  my  cell, 

And  wandered  forth  alone, 

Listening  all  the  time 

To  the  melodious  singing 

Of  a  beautiful  white  bird, 

Until  I  heard 

The  bells  of  the  convent  ringing 

Noon  from  their  noisy  towers. 

It  was  as  if  I  dreamed  ; 

For  what  to  me  had  seemed 

Moments  only,  had  been  hours  1 " 

**  Years !  "  said  a  voice  close  by. 

It  was  an  aged  monk  who  spoke, 

From  a  bench  of  oak 

Fastened  against  the  wall ; — 

lie  was  the  oldest  mouk  of  alL 

For  a  whole  century 

Had  be  been  the  re, 

Serving  CJod  in  prayer, 

Tin-  mrekrst  and  humblest  of  his  creature* 

He  remembered  well  the  feature* 

Of  Felix,  and  he  said, 

Speaking  distinct  and  slow: 

"  Oue  hundred  years  ago, 


THE   GOL1>EX   LEGEND.  10S 

When  I  was  a  novice  in  this  place, 

There  was  here  a  monk,  lull  of  God's  grace, 

\\'ho  bore  the  name 

Of  Felix,  and  this  man  must  be  the  same." 

And  straightway 

They  brought  ibrth  to  the  light  of  day 

A  volume  old  and  brown, 

A  huge  tome,  bound 

In  brass  and  wild-boar's  hide, 

Wherein  were  written  down 

The  names  of  all  who  had  died 

In  the  convent,  since  it  was  edified. 

And  there  they  found, 

Just  as  the  old  monk  said, 

That  on  a  certain  day  and  date, 

One  hundred  years  before, 

Had  gone  forth  from  the  convent  gate 

The  Monk  Felix,  and  never  more 

Had  entered  that  sacred  door. 

He  had  been  counted  among  the  dead! 

And  they  knew,  at  last, 

That,  such  had  been  the  power 

Of  that  celestial  and  immortal  song, 

A  hundred  years  had  passed, 

And  had  not  seemed  so  long 

As  a  single  hour  1 

ELSIE  comet  in  with  Jlowert. 


Here  are  flowers  for  you, 
But  they  are  not  all  for  you. 
Some  of  them  arc  for  the  Virgin 
And  for  Saint  Cecilia. 

PRINCE   HEXKT. 

As  thou  standest  there, 
Thou  seemest  to  me  like  the  angel 
That  brought  the  immortal  roses 
To  Saint  Cecilia's  bridal  chamber. 


104  THE   GOLDEN   I EGI 


But  these  will  fade. 

PUTSCH  HKXBT. 
Themselves  will  fade, 
But  not  their  memory, 
And  memory  has  the  power 
To  re-create  them  from  the  dust. 
They  remind  me,  too, 
Of  martyred  Dorothea, 
Who  from  celestial  gardens  sent 
Flowers  as  her  witnesses 
To  him  who  scofled  and  doubted. 


Do  you  know  the  story 

Of  Christ  and  the  Sultan's  daughter? 

That  is  the  prettiest  legend  of  them  alL 

PIUKCB  HKNBT. 

Then  tell  it  to  me. 

But  first  come  hither. 

Lay  the  flowers  down  beside  me, 

And  put  both  thy  hands  in  mine. 

Now  tell  me  the  story. 

ELSIE. 

Early  in  the  morning 
The  Sultan's  daughter 
Walked  in  her  father's  garden, 
Gathering  the  bright  flowers, 
All  full  of  dew. 

PRINCE  HESBT. 

Just  as  thou  hast  been  doing 
This  morning,  dearest  Elsie. 


And  as  she  gathered  them, 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEND.  105 


She  wondered  more  and  more 
Who  was  the  Master  of  the  Flowere, 
And  made  them  grow 
Out  of  the  cold,  dark  earth. 
"  In  my  heart,"  she  said, 
"  I  love  him  ;  and  for  him 
Would  leave  my  father's  palace, 
To  labor  in  bis  garden." 

PRINCE  HESRT. 

Dear,  innocent  child ! 

How  sweetly  thou  recallest 

The  long-forgotten  legend, 

That  in  my  early  childhood 

My  mother  told  me  ! 

Upon  my  brain 

It  reappears  once  more, 

As  a  birthmark  on  the  forehead 

When  a  hand  suddenly 

Is  laid  upon  it,  and  removed  1 


And  at  midnight, 

As  she  lay  upon  her  bed, 

She  heard  a  voice 

Call  to  her  from  the  garden, 

And,  looking  forth  from  her  window, 

She  saw  a  beautiful  youth 

Standing  among  the  flowers. 

It  was  the  Lord  Jesus ; 

And  she  went  down  to  him, 

And  opened  the  door  for  him; 

And  he  said  to  her,  "  O  maiden  ! 

Thou  hast  thought  of  me  with  love, 

And  for  thy  sake 

Out  of  my  Father's  kingdom 

Have  I  come  hither  : 

I  am  the  Master  of  the  Flowers. 

My  garden  is  in  Paradise, 


106  THE   GOLDEX   LF.GEXD. 

And  if  tlioit  wilr  go  with  me, 

Thy  bridal  mrland 

Shall  ho  of  bright  red  flowers." 

And  then  he  took  from  his  finger 

A  golden  ring, 

And  asked  the  Sultan's  daughter 

If  she  would  be  his  bride. 

And  when  she  answered  him  with  love, 

His  wounds  began  to  bleed, 

And  she  said  to  him, 

"  O  Love !  how  red  thy  heart  is, 

And  thy  hands  arc  full  of  roses." 

"  For  thy  sake,"  answered  he, 

"  For  thy  sake  is  my  heart  so  red, 

For  thee  I  bring  these  roses. 

I  gathered  them  at  the  cross 

"Whereon  I  died  for  thcc  1 

Come,  for  my  Father  calls. 

Thou  art  my  elected  bride!" 

And  the  Sultan's  daughter 

Followed  him  to  his  Father's  garden. 

rr.ixcE  IIEXRT. 
Wouldst  thou  have  done  so,  Elsie  ? 


Yes,  very  gladly. 

PRINCE  HESRT. 

Then  the  Celestial  Bridegroom 

Will  come  for  thcc  also. 

Upon  thy  forehead  he  will  place, 

Not  his  crown  of  thorns, 

But  a  crown  of  roses. 

In  thy  bridal  chamber, 

Like  "Saint  Cecilia, 

Thou  shalt  hear  sweet  music, 

And  breathe  the  fragrance 

Oi'  flowers  immortal  1 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEND.  107 


Go  now  and  place  these  flowers 
Before  her  picture. 


A  ROOM  IK  TIIE  FARM-HOUSE. 
Twilight.    UESULA  spinning.    GOTTLIEB  asleep  in  hit  chair 

URSULA. 

DARKER  and  darker!    Hardly  a  glimmer 
Of  light  comes  in  at  the  window-pane  ; 
Or  is  it  my  eyes  are  growing  dimmer '? 
I  cannot  disentangle  this  skein, 
Nor  Aviad  it  rightly  upon  the  reel. 
Elsie  1 

GOTTLIEB,  starting. 
The  stopping  of  thy  wheel 
Has  wakened  me  out  of  a  pleasant  dream. 
I  thought  I  was  sitting  beside  a  stream, 
And  heard  the  grinding  of  a  mill, 
When  suddenly  the  wheels  stood  still, 
And  a  voice  cried  "  Elsie  "  in  my  ear! 
It  startled  me,  it  seemed  so  near. 


I  was  calling  her ;  I  want  a  light 

I  cannot  see  to  spin  my  flax. 

Bring  the  lamp,  Elsie.    Dost  thou  hear  ? 

ELSIE,  within. 
In  a  moment ! 

GOTTLIEB. 

Where  are  Bertha  and  Max  ? 

URSULA. 

They  are  sitting  with  Elsie  at  the  door. 
She  is  telling  them  stories  of  the  wood, 
And  the  Wolf,  and  Little  lied  llidinghood. 


108  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD. 

GOTTLIEB. 

And  where  is  the  Prince  ? 

UKSULA. 

In  l\ls  room  overhead  ; 
I  heard  him  walking  across  the  floor, 
As  he  always  docs,  with  a  heavy  tread. 

ELSIE  comes  in  icith  a  lamp.  MAX  and  BERTHA  foGota  ktrt 
and  they  all  sing  the,  Eccniny  Sony  on  the  lighting  of  As 
lamp. 

EVENING   SONG. 

O  gladsome  light 
Of  the  Father  Immortal, 
And  of  the  celestial 
Sacred  and  blessed 
Jesus,  our  Saviour  1 

Now  to  the  sunset 
Again  hast  thou  brought  us  ; 
And,  seeing  the  evening 
Twilight,  we  bless  thce, 
Praise  thce,  adore  thee  I 

Father  omnipotent  I 
Son,  the  Life-giver  I 
Spirit,  the  Comforter  1 
Worthy  at  all  times 
Of  worship  and  wonder  I 


v,  ut  the  door. 
Amen! 


Who  was  it  said  Amen  ? 

EI.SIK. 

It  was  the  Prince  :  ho  stood  at  the  door, 
And  listened  a  moment,  as  we  chauuted 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD.  10* 

The  evening  song.    He  is  gone  again. 
I  have  oileu  seen  him  there  before. 


Poor  Prince ! 

GOTTLIEB. 

I  thought  the  house  was  haunted  I 
Poor  Prince,  alas !  and  yet  as  mild 
And  patient  as  the  gentlest  child ! 


I  love  him  because  he  is  so  good, 
And  makes  me  such  fine  bows  and  arrows, 
To  shoot  at  the  robins  and  the  sparrows, 
And  the  red  squirrels  in  the  wood  1 


I  love  him,  too ! 

GOTTLIEB. 

Ah,  yes !  we  all 

Love  him,  from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts ; 
lie  gave  us  the  farm,  the  house,  and  the  grange, 
He  gave  us  the  horses  and  the  carts, 
And  the  great  oxen  in  the  stall, 
The  vineyard,  and  the  forest  range  ! 
\Ve  have  nothing  to  give  him  but  our  love  I 


Did  he  give  us  the  beautiful  stork  above 

On  the  chimney-top,  with  its  large,  round  nest  ? 


No,  not  the  stork  ;  by  God  in  heaven, 
As  a  blessing,  the  dear,  white  stork  was  given; 
But  the  Prince  has  given  us  all  the  rest, 
God  bless  him,  and  make  him  well  again. 


Would  I  could  do  something  for  his  sake, 
Something  to  cure  his  sorrow  and  pain ' 


110  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 


Tint  no  one  can  ;  neither  thou  nor  I, 
Nor  any  one  else. 

ELSIE. 
And  must  he  die  ? 

CRSULA. 

Yes ;  if  the  dear  God  docs  not  take 
Pity  upon  him,  in  his  distress, 
And  work  a  miracle  1 


Or  unless 

Some  maiden,  of  her  own  accord, 
Offers  her  life  for  that  of  her  lord, 
And  is  willing  to  die  in  his  stead. 


Iwffl! 

URSULA. 

Prithee,  thou  foolish  child,  be  still ! 

Thou  shouldst  not  say  what  thou  dost  not  mean  I 


I  mean  it  truly ! 

MAT. 

O  father  1  this  morning, 
Down  by  the  mill,  in  the  ravine, 
Hans  killed  a  wolf,  the  very  same 
That  in  the  night  to  the  shcepfold  came, 
And  ate  up  my  lainb,  that  was  left  outside. 


I  am  glad  he  is  dead.    It  will  be  a  warning 
To  the  wolves  in  the  forest,  far  and  wide. 


And  I  am  going  to  liave  his  hide ! 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  Hi 


BERTHA. 

I  wonder  if  this  is  the  wolf  that  ate 
Little  Eed  Ridinghood  1 


O,  no! 

That  wolf  was  killed  a  long  while  ago. 
Come,  children,  it  is  growing  late. 


Ah,  how  I  wish  I  were  a  man, 

As  stout  as  Hans  is,  and  as  strong  ! 

I  would  do  nothing  else,  the  whole  day  long, 

But  just  kill  wolves. 

GOTTLIEB. 

Then  go  to  bed, 

And  grow  as  fast  as  a  little  boy  can. 
Bertha  is  half  asleep  already. 
Sec  how  she  nods  her  heavy  head, 
And  her  sleepy  feet  are  so  unsteady 
She  will  hardly  be  able  to  creep  up  stairs. 

URSULA. 

Good  night,  my  children.     Here's  the  light 
And  do  not  forget  to  say  your  prayers 
Before  you  sleep. 

GOTTLIEB. 

Good  night  I 

MAX  and  BERTHA. 

Good  night ! 
They  go  out  mth  ELSIK. 

URSULA,  spinning. 

She  is  a  strange  and  wayward  child, 
That  Elsie  of  ours.     She  looks  so  old, 


119  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD. 

And  thoughts  and  fancies  \vcird  and  wild 

j?ecm  of  late  to  have  taken  hold 

Of  her  heart,  that  was  once  so  docile  and  mild  ! 


She  is  like  all  girls. 


Ah  no,  forsooth ! 
Unlike  all  I  have  ever  seen. 
For  she  has  visions  and  strange  dreams, 
And  in  all  her  words  and  ways,  she  seems 
Much  older  than  she  is  in  truth. 
Who  would  think  her  but  fourteen? 
And  there  has  been  of  late  such  a  change  I 
My  heart  is  heavy  with  fear  and  doubt 
That  she  may  not  live  till  the  year  is  out 
She  is  so  strange, — so  strange,— so  strange  I 


I  am  not  troubled  with  any  such  fear ; 
She  will  live  and  thrive  for  many  a  year. 


ELSIE'S  CHAMBER. 

Night.    ELSIE  praying. 

ELSIE. 

MY  Redeemer  and  my  Lord, 
I  beseech  thce,  I  entreat  thce, 
Guide  me  in  each  act  and  word, 
That  hereafter  I  may  meet  thec, 
Watching,  waiting,  hoping,  yearning, 
With  my  lamp  well  tnuiined  and  burning ! 

Interceding 

With  these  bleeding 

Wounds  upon  thy  hands  and  side, 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  113 

For  all  Trlio  have  lived  and  erred 
Thou  bast  suffered,  thou  hast  died, 
Scourged,  and  mocked,  and  crucified, 
And  in  the  grave  hast  thou  -been  buried  I 

If  my  feeble  prayer  can  reach  thee, 

O  my  Saviour,  I  beseech  thee, 

Even  as  thou  hast  died  for  me, 

Norc  sincerely 

Let  me  follow  where  thou  leadcst, 

Let  me,  bleeding  as  thou  blcedest, 

Die,  if  dying  I  may  give 

Life  to  one  who  asks  to  live, 

And  more  nearly, 

Dying  thus,  resemble  thee  ! 


THE    CHAMBER    OP    GOTTLIEB    AND    UKSULA, 
Midnight.    ELSIE  standing  by  tlieir  bedside,  wiping. 

GOTTLIEB. 

THE  wind  is  roaring ;  the  rushing  rain 
Is  loud  upon  roof  and  window-pane, 
As  if  the  wild  Huntsman  of  Kodenstein, 
Boding  evil  to  me  and  mine, 
Were  abroad  to-night  with  his  ghostly  train  I 
In  the  brief  lulls  of  the  tempest  wild, 
The  dogs  howl  in  the  yard  ;  and  hark  I 
Borne  one  is  sobbing  in  the  dark, 
!    Here  in  the  chamber  1 

ELSIE. 

ItisL 

URSULA. 

j   Elsie  !  what  ails  thee,  my  poor  child  ? 
VOL.  IL  8 


114  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD. 


I  am  disturbed  and  much  distressed, 
In  thinking  our  dear  J  Ymce  must  die  ; 
I  cannot  close  iniue  eyes,  nor  rest 

GOTTLIEB. 

\Vhat  wouldst  thou  ?    In  the  Power  Divine 
His  healing  lies,  not  in  our  own ; 
It  Li  in  the  hand  of  God  alone. 


Nay,  he  has  put  it  into  mine, 
And  into  my  heart  ! 

GOTTLIEB. 

Thy  words  are  wild) 

URSULA. 

What  dost  thou  mean  ?  my  child  I  my  child  1 


That  for  our  dear  Prince  Henry's  sake 
I  will  myself  the  offering  make, 
And  give  uiy  life  to  purchase  his. 


Am  I  still  dreaming,  or  awake  ? 
Thou  speakest  carelessly  of  death, 
And  yet  thou  knowest  not  what  it  is. 


'T,is  the  cessation  of  our  breath. 

Silent  and  motionless  we  lie ; 

And  no  one  knowcth  more  than  this. 

I  saw  our  little  Gertrude  die; 

She  left  off  breathing,  and  no  more 

I  smoothed  the  pillow  beneath  her  head. 

She  was  more  beautiful  than  before. 


THE   GOLDEN    LEGEND.  115 

Like  violets  faded  were  her  eyes ; 

By  this  we  knew  that  she  was  dead. 

Through  the  open  window  looked  the  skies 

Into  the  chamber  where  she  lay, 

And  the  wind  was  like  the  sound  of  wings, 

As  if  angels  came  to  bear  her  away. 

Ah  !  when  I  saw  and  felt  these  things, 

I  found  it  dillicult  to  stay ; 

I  longed  to  die,  as  she  had  died, 

And  go  forth  with  her,  side  by  side. 

The  Saints  are  dead,  the  Martyrs  dead, 

And  Mary,  and  our  Lord  ;  and  I 

Would  follow  in  humility 

The  way  by  them  illumined  1 

CRSULA. 

My  child  !  my  child  !  thou  must  not  die ! 


Why  should  I  live  ?     Do  I  not  know 
The  life  of  woman  is  full  of  woe  ? 
Toiling  on  and  on  and  on, 
With  breaking  heart,  and  tearful  eyes, 
And  silent  lips,  and  in  the  soul 
The  secret  longings  that  arise, 
Which  this  world  never  satisfies  ! 
Some  more,  some  less,  but  of  the  whole 
Not  one  quite  happy,  no,  not  one  1 

CRSULA. 

It  is  the  malediction  of  Eve  ! 


In  place  of  it,  let  me  receive 
The  benediction  of  Mary,  then. 


Ah,  woe  is  me  1     Ah,  woe  is  me  ! 
Most  wretched  am  I  among  men  I 


11*  HIE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD. 

URSULA. 

A\rs  !  that  I  should  live  to  sec 
Thy  death,  beloved,  and  to  stand 
Above  thy  grave  1     Ah,  woo  the  day 


Thou  wilt  not  see  it    I  shall  lie 

Beneath  the  flowers  of  another  land, 

For  at  Salerno,  far  away 

Over  the  mountains,  over  the  sea, 

It  is  appointed  ine  to  die  1 

And  it  will  seem  no  more  to  thee 

Than  if  at  the  village  on  market-day 

I  should  a  little  longer  stay 

Than  I  am  used. 

URSULA. 

Even  as  tliou  sayest ! 

And  how  my  heart  beats,  when  thou  stayest 
I  cannot  rest  until  my  sight 
In  satisfied  with  seeing  thec. 
"What,  then,  if  thou  wert  dead  ? 


Ah  me! 

Of  our  old  eyes  thou  art  the  light ! 
The  joy  of  our  old  hearts  art  thou  1 
And  wilt  thou  die  ? 

URSULA. 

Not  now  1  not  now ! 


Christ  died  for  me,  and  shall  not  I 
Be  willing  for  my  Prince  to  die  ? 
You  both  arc  silent ;  you  cannot  speak. 
This  said  I,  at  our  Saviour's  least, 
After  confession,  to  the  priest, 
And  even  he  made  no  reply. 
Does  he  not  warn  us  all  to  seek 
The  happier,  better  laud  on  high, 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEXP.  117 

Where  flti  ^crs  inrnc-tal  never  wither  , 
And  could  he  forbid  ine  to  go  thither  V 


In  God's  own  time,  mr  heart's  de'ight 
\Vhcu  he  shall  call  thee,  not  before  1 


I  heard  him  call.     When  Chr'st  ascendr i 

Triumphantly,  from  star  to  star, 

He  left  the  gates  of  heaven  ajar. 

I  had  a  vision  in  the  night, 

And  saw  him  standing  at  the  door 

Of  his  Father's  mansion,  vast  and  splendu* 

And  beckoning  to  ine  from  afar. 

I  cannot  stay  1 

GOTTLIEB. 

She  speaks  almost 
As  if  it  were  the  Holy  Ghost 
Spake  through  her  lips,  and  In  her  stead  1 
What  if  this  were  of  God  ? 

URSULA. 

Ah,  then 
Gainsay  it  dare  we  not 

GOTTLIEB. 

Amen  I 

Elsie  !  the  words  that  thou  hast  said 
Are  strange  and  new  for  us  to  hear, 
And  fill  our  hearts  with  doubt  and  fear. 
Whether  it  be  a  dark  temptation 
Of  the  Evil  One,  or  God's  inspiration, 
We  in  our  blindness  cannot  say. 
We  must  think  upon  it,  and  pray; 
For  evil  and  good  it  both  resembles. 
If  it  be  of  God,  his  will  be  done ! 
May  he  guard  us  from  the  Evil  One  ! 
How  hot  thy  hand  is !  how  it  trembles  I 
Go  to  thy  bed,  and  try  to  sleep. 


f!8  THE   GOLDEN    LEGEXD. 

URSULA, 

Kiss  ine.     Good  night ;  arid  do  not  weep ! 

KI.SIK  <j«es  out. 

Ah,  what  an  awful  tiling  is  tliis  1 
J  almost  shuddered  at  her  kiss, 
As  if  a  ghost  had  touched  my  check, 
I  am  so  childish  and  so  weak  1 
As  soon  as  I  see  the  earliest  pray 
Of  morning  glimmer  in  the  east, 
I  will  go  over  to  the  priest, 
And  Lear  what  the  good  man  has  to  say ' 


A   VILLAGE   CnUKCH. 
A  woman  kneeling  at  (he  confessional. 

THE  PARISH  PRIEST,  from  within. 
Go,  sin  no  more !     Thy  penance  o'er, 
A  new  and  better  life  begin ! 
God  maketh  thec  forever  free 
From  the  dominion  of  thy  sin  ! 
Go,  sin  no  more !  He  will  restore 
The  peace  that  filled  thy  heart  before, 
And  pardon  thine  iniquity  ! 
The  woman  goes  out.     Tlte  Priest  comes  forth,  and 
slowly  up  ami  down  the  church. 

0  blessed  Lord  !  how  much  I  need 
Thy  light  to  guide  me  on  my  way  ! 
So  many  hands,  that,  without  heed, 

Still  touch  thy  wounds,  and  make  them  oleftl 
So  many  feet,  that,  day  by  day, 
Still  wander  from  thy  fold  astray  I 
Unless  thou  (ill  me  with  thy  light, 

1  cannot  lead  thy  flock  aright; 
Nor,  without  thy  support,  can  bear 
The  burden  of  so  great  a  care, 
But  am  myself  a  castaway  1 

A  pautt. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  11 S 

The  day  \s  drawing  to  its  close  ; 

And  what  good  deeds,  since  first  it  rose, 

Have  I  presented,  Lord,  to  thec, 

As  ort'erings  of  my  ministry  ? 

What  wrong  repressed,  what  right  maintained, 

What  struggle  passed,  what  victory  gained, 

What  good  'attempted  and  attained? 

Feeble,  at  best,  is  my  endeavour ! 

I  sec,  but  cannot  reach,  the  height 

That  lies  forever  in  the  light, 

And  yet  forever  and  forever, 

When  seeming  just  within  my  grasp, 

I  feel  my  feeble  hands  unclasp, 

And  sink  discouraged  into  night ! 

For  thine  own  purpose,  thou  hast  sent 

The  strife  and  the  discouragement ! 

A  pause, 

Why  staycst  thou,  Prince  of  Iloheneck? 
Why  keep  me  pacing  to  and  fro 
Amid  these  aisles  of  sacred  gloom, 
Counting  my  footsteps  as  I  go, 
And  marking  with  each  step  a  tomb  ? 
Why  should  the  world  for  thee  make  room, 
Ami  wait  thy  leisure  and  thy  beck  ? 
Thou  comcst  in  the  hope  to  hear 
Some  word  of  comfort  and  of  cheer. 
What  can  I  say  ?     I  cannot  give 
The  counsel  to  do  this  and  live ; 
But  rather,  firmly  to  deny 
The  tempter,  though  his  power  is  strong, 
And,  inaccessible  to  wrong, 
Still  like  a  martyr  live  and  die  I 

A  pause. 

The  evening  air  grows  dusk  and  bfown ; 
I  must  go  forth  into  the  town, 
To  visit  beds  of  pain  and  death, 
Of  restless  limbs,  and  quivering  breath, 
And  sorrowing  hearts,  and  patient  eyea 
That  see,  through  tears,  the  sou  go  down, 


120  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

But  never  more  shall  see  it  rise. 
Tho  poor  in  body  and  estate, 
The  sick  and  the  disconsolate, 
Must  not  on  man's  convenience  wait 

Got:  out. 
Enter  LCCIFEU,  as  a  PrietL 

LUCIFER,  with  a  genuflexion,  mocking. 
This  is  the  Black  Pater-noster. 
God  was  my  foster, 
lie  fostered  mo 

Under  the  book  of  the  Palm-tree 
St  Michael  was  my  dame. 
He  was  born  at  Bethlehem, 
He  was  made  of  flesh  and  blood. 
God  send  me  my  right  food, 
My  right  food,  and  shelter  too, 
That  I  may  to  yon  kirk  go, 
To  read  upon  yon  sweet  book 
Which  the  mighty  God  of  heaven  shook. 
Open,  open,  hell's  gates  ! 
Shut,  shut,  heaven's  gates  I 
All  the  devils  in  the  air 
The  stronger  be,  that  hear  the  Black  Prayer ' 

Looking  round  tite  church, 
What  a  darksome  and  dismal  place  1 
I  wonder  that  any  man  has  the  face 
To  call  such  a  hole  the  House  of  the  Lord, 
And  the  Gate  of  Heaven, — yet  such  is  the  word 
Ceiling,  and  walls,  and  windows  old, 
Covered  with  cobwebs,  blackened  with  mould ; 
Dust  on  the  pulpit,  dust  on  the  stairs, 
Dust  on  the  benches,  and  stalls,  and  chairs  1 
The  pulpit,  from  which  such  ponderous  sermons 
Have  fallen  down  on  the  brains  of  the  Germans, 
With  about  as  much  real  edification 
As  if  a  great  Biljlp,  bound  in  lead, 
Had  fallen,  and  struck  them  on  the  head; 
Ami  1  ought  to  remember  that  sensation  1 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD.  121 

Here  staiids  the  holy-water  stoup  I 
Holy- water  it  may  be  to  many, 
But  to  me,  the  veriest  Liquor  Gehenna  I 
It  smells  like  a  filthy  fast-day  soup  ! 
Near  it  stands  the  box  for  the  poor ;     ' 
With  its  iron  padlock,  safe  and  sure* 
I  and  the  priest  of  *Jie  parish  know 
Whither  all  these  charities  go; 
Therefore,  to  keep  up  the  institution, 
I  will  add  my  little  contribution  ! 
lie  puts  in  money. 

Underneath  this  mouldering  tomb, 
With  statue  of  stone,  and  scutcheon  of  brass, 
Slumbers  a  great  lord  of  the  village. 
All  his  life  was  riot  and  pillage, 
But  at  length,  to  escape  the  threatened  doom 
Of  the  everlasting,  penal  fire, 
He  died  in  the  dress  of  a  mendicant  friar, 
And  bartered  his  wealth  for  a  daily  mass. 
But  all  that  afterwards  came  to  pass, 
And  whether  he  finds  it  dull  or  pleasant, 
Is  kept  a  secret  for  the  present, 
At  his  own  particular  desire. 

And  here,  in  a  corner  of  the  wall, 

Shadowy,  silent,  apart  from  all, 

With  its  awful  portal  open  Avide, 

And  its  latticed  windows  on  either  side, 

And  its  step  well  worn  by  the  bended  kneea 

Of  one  or  two  pious  centuries, 

Stands  the  village  confessional ! 

Within  it,  as  an  honored  guest, 

I  will  sit  me  down  awhile  and  rest! 

Scats  himself  in  the  confessional. 
Here  sits  the  priest ;  and  faint  and  low, 
Like  the  sighing  of  an  evening  breeze, 
Comes  through  these  painted  lattices 
The  ceaseless  sound  of  human  woe ; 
Here,  while  her  bosom  aclics  and  throbs 


122  TOE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Witli  doop  and  agonizing  sohs, 
Tliat  half  arc  passion,  half  contrition, 
The  luckless  daughter  of  perdition 
Slowly  confesses  licr  secret  shame! 
The  time,  the  place,  the  lover's  name! 
I  lore  the  grim  murderer,  with  a  groan, 
From  his  bruised  conscience  rolls  the  stone, 
Thinking  that  thus  he  can  atone 
For  ravages  of  sword  and  flame  ! 
Indeed,  I  marvel,  and  marvel  greatly, 
How  a  priest  can  sit  here  so  sedately, 
Heading,  the  whole  year  out  and  in, 
Naught  but  the  catalogue  of  win, 
And  still  keep  any  faith  whatever 
In  human  virtue  1    Never  1  never ! 

I  cannot  repeat  a  thousandth  part 

Of  the  horrors  and  crimes  and  sins  and  woes 

That  arise,  when  with  palpitating  throes 

The  grave-yard  in  the  human  heart 

Gives  up  its  dead,  at  the  voice  of  the  priest, 

As  if  he  were  an  archangel,  at  least 

It  makes  a  peculiar  atmosphere, 

This  odor  of  carthlv  passions  and  crimes, 

Such  as  I  like  to  breathe,  at  times, 

And  such  as  often  brings  me  here 

In  the  hottest  and  most  pestilential  season. 

To-day,  I  come  for  another  reason  ; 

To  foster  and  ripen  an  evil  thought 

In  a  heart  that  is  almost  to  madness  wrought. 

And  to  make  a  murderer  out  of  a  prince, 

A  sleight  of  hand  I  learned  long  since  1 

He  cames.     In  the  twilight  he  will  not  see 

The  difference  between  his  priest  and  me  ! 

In  the  same  net  was  the  mother  caught ! 

PHINC-I:  n  EX  it  Y,  entering  and  kneeling  at  die  confessional 
Remorseful,  penitent,  and  lowly, 
I  come  to  crave,  O  Father  holy, 
Thy  beucdictiou  on  my  head. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEJO).  123 

LUCIFER. 

The  benediction  shall  be  said 

After  confession,  not  before ! 

'T  is  a  God-speed  to  the  parting  guest, 

"Who  stands  already  at  the  door, 

Sandalled  with  holiness,  and  dressed 

In  garments  pure  from  earthly  stain. 

Meanwhile,  hast  thou  searched  well  thy  breast  ? 

Docs  the  same  madness  fill  thy  brain  ? 

Or  have  thy  passion  and  unrest 

Vanished  forever  from  thy  mind  ? 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

By  the  same  madness  still  made  blind, 
By  the  same  passion  still  possessed, 
I  come  again  to  the  house  of  prayer, 
A  man  afflicted  and  distressed ! 
As  in  a  cloudy  atmosphere, 
Through  unseen  sluices  of  the  air, 
A  sudden  and  impetuous  wind 
Strikes  the  great  forest  white  with  fear, 
And  every  branch,  and  bough,  and  spray 
Points  all  its  quivering  leaves  one  way, 
And  meadows  of  grass,  and  fields  of  grain. 
And  the  clouds  above,  and  the  slanting  rain) 
And  smoke  from  chimneys  of  the  town, 
Yield  themselves  to  it,  and  bow  down, 
So  docs  tliis  dreadful  purpose  press 
Onward,  with  irresistible  stress, 
And  all  my  thoughts  and  faculties, 
Struck  level  by  the  strength  of  this, 
From  their  true  inclination  turn, 
And  all  stream  forward  to  Salern  1 


Alas !  we  are  but  eddies  of  dust, 
Uplifted  by  the  blast,  and  whirle< 
Along  the  highway  of  the  world 
A  moment  only,  tlicu  to  full 


124  THE    GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Back  to  a  common  level  all, 
At  the  subsiding  of  the  gust  I 

rr.ixc-E  IIESRT. 

O  boly  Father  !  pardon  in  me 
The  oscillation  of  a  mind 
Unstcadfast,  and  that  cannot  find 
Its  centre  of  rest  and  harmony  ! 
For  evermore  before  mine  eyes 
This  ghastly  phantom  flits  and  flies, 
And  as  a  madman  through  a  crowd, 
With  frantic  gestures  and  wild  cries, 
It  hurries  onward,  and  aloud 
Repeats  its  awful  prophecies  ! 
Weakness  is  •wretchedness  !     To  be  strong 
Is  to  be  happy  !     I  am  weak, 
And  cannot  find  the  good  1  seek, 
Because  I  feel  and  fear  the  wrong  1 

LUCIFER. 

Be  not  alarmed  !     The  Church  is  kind, 

And  in  her  mercy  and  her  meekness 

She  meets  half-way  her  children's  weakness, 

Writes  their  transgressions  in  the  dust  1 

Though  in  the  Decalogue  we  find 

The  mandate  written,  "  Thou  shalt  not  kill !" 

Yet  there  are  cases  when  we  must. 

In  war,  for  instance,  or  from  scathe 

To  guard  and  keep  the  one  true  Faith  ! 

We  must  look  at  the  Decalogue  in  the  light 

Of  an  ancient  statute,  that  was  meant 

For  a  mild  and  general  application, 

To  be  understood  with  the  reservation, 

That,  in  certain  instances,  the  Right 

Must  yield  to  the  Expedient  ! 

Thou  art  a  Prince.     Jt'thon  .-houldst  die, 

What  hearts  and  hopes  would  prostrate  lie  I 

A'hat  noble  deeds,  what  lair  renown, 

Into  the  grave  with  thee  go  duwu  1 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  125 

What  acts  of  vaTbr  and  courtesy 
Remaiu  undone,  and  die  with  thee  ! 
Thou  art  the  last  of  all  thy  race! 
With  thce  a  noble  name  expires, 
And  vanishes  from  the  earth's  face 
The  glorious  memory  of  thy  sires ! 
She  is  a  peasant.     In  her  veins 
Flows  common  and  plebeian  blood ; 
It  is  such  as  daily  and  hourly  stains 
The  dust  and  the  turf  of  battle  plains, 
By  vassals  shed,  in  a  crimson  flood, 
Without  reserve,  and  without  reward, 
At  the  slightest  summons  of  their  lord ! 
But  thine  is  precious  ;  the  fore-appointed 
Blood  of  kings,  of  God's  anointed  1 
Moreover,  what  has  the  world  in  store 
For  one  like  her,  but  tears  and  toil  ? 
Daughter  of  sorrow,  serf  of  the  soil, 
A  peasant's  child  and  a  peasant's  wife, 
And  her  soul  within  her  sick  and  sore 
With  the  roughness  and  barrenness  of  life  I 
I  marvel  not  at  the  heart's  recoil 
From  a  fate  like  this  in  one  so  tender, 
Kor  at  its  eagerness  to  surrender 
All  the  wretchedness,  want,  and  woe 
That  await  it  in  this  world  below, 
For  the  unutterable  splendor 
Ol  the  world  of  rest  beyond  the  skies. 
So  the  Church  sanctions  the  sacrifice : 
Therefore  inhale  this  healing  balm, 
And  breathe  this  fresh  life  into  thine ; 
Accept  the  comfort  and  the  calm 
She  oilers,  as  a  gift  divine  ; 
Let  her  fall  down  and  anoint  thy  feet 
With  the  ointment  costly  and  most  sweet 
Of  her  young  blood,  and  thou  shale  live. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

And  -will  the  righteous  Heaven  foigive  ? 


126  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

No  action,  whether  foul  or  fair, 

Is  ever  (low,  Init  it  leaves  somewhere 

A  reeonl,  written  by  fingers  ghostly, 

As  a  blessing  or  a  curse,  ami  mostly 

In  the  greater  weakness  or  greater  strength 

Of  the  acts  which  follow  it,  till  at  length 

The  wrongs  of  acres  are  redressed, 

And  the  justice  of  God  made  manifest 


In  ancient  records  it  is  stated 

That,  whenever  an  evil  deed  is  done, 

Another  devil  is  created 

To  scourge  and  torment  the  offending  one  1 

But  evil  is  only  good  perverted, 

And  Lucifer,  the  Bearer  of  Light, 

But  an  angel  fallen  and  deserted, 

Thrust  from  his  Father's  house  with  a  curse 

Into  the  black  and  endless  night. 


If  justice  rules  the  universe, 
From  the  good  actions  of  good  men 
Angels  of  light  should  be  begotten, 
And  thus  the  balance  restored  again. 


Yes ;  if  the  world  were  not  so  rotten, 
And  so  given  over  to  the  Devil  1 

PIUSCE  IIEXKT. 

But  this  deed,  is  it  good  or  evil  ? 
Have  I  thine  absolution  free 
To  do  it,  and  without  restriction  ? 

LUCIFER. 

Ay ;  and  from  whatsoever  sin 

Licth  around  it  and  within, 

From  all  crimes  in  which  it  may  involve  thee, 

I  now  release  thce  and  absolve  thee! 


THE  GOLDEN    LEGEND.  127 

rnixcK  ITEXRT. 
Give  me  thy  holy  benediction. 

LUCIFER,  tiretchiny  forth  his  hatul  and  muUtring, 
Maledictione  pcrpctua 
Maledieat  vos 
Pater  eternus  1 

THE  AXGEL,  wifli  flie  ceoUan  harp. 
T&ke  heed  !  take  heed  ! 
Noble  art  thou  in  thy  birth, 
By  the  good  and  the  great  of  earth 
Hast  thou  been  taught ! 
Be  noble  in  every  thought 
And  in  every  deed  1 
Let  not  the  illusion  of  thy  senses 
Betray  thee  to  deadly  offences. 
Be  strong !  be  good  1  be  pure  1 
The  right  only  shall  endure, 
All  things  else  are  but  false  pretences. 
I  entreat  thee,  I  implore, 
Listen  no  more 

To  the  suggestions  of  an  evil  spirit, 
That  even  now  is  there, 
Making  the  foul  seem  fair, 
And  selfishness  itself  a  virtue  and  a  merit 


A  ROOM  IN  THE  FARM-HOUSE. 

GOTTLIEB. 

IT  is  decided !    For  many  days, 

And  nights  as  many,  we  have  had 

A  nameless  terror  in  our  breast, 

Making  us  timid,  and  afraid 

Of  God,  and  his  mysterious  ways  ! 

We  have  been  sorrowful  and  sad  ; 

Much  have  we  suffered,  much  have  prayed 


128  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

That  lie  would  load  us  as  is  host, 
Ami  show  us  what  his  will  required. 
It  is  decided  ;  and  we  give 
Our  cLild,  O  Prince,  that  you  may  live  I 

URSULA. 

It  is  of  God.     He  lias  inspired 
This  purpose  in  her ;  and  through  pain, 
Out  of  a  world  of  sin  and  woe, 
lie  lakes  her  to  himself  again. 
The  mother's  heart  resists  no  longer  ; 
With  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  in' vain 
It  wrestled,  for  he  was  the  stronger. 

GOTTLIEB. 

As  Abraham  oflercd  long  ago 
His  son  unto  the  Lord,  and  even 
The  Everlasting  Father  in  heaven 
Gave  his,  as  a  lamb  unto  the  slaughter, 
So  do  I  oiler  up  my  daughter ! 

UBSULA  hides  her  face. 


My  life  is  little, 
Only  a  cup  of  water, 
But  pure  and  limpid. 
Take  it,  O  my  Prince  I 
Let  it  refresh  you, 
Let  it  restore  you. 
It  is  given  willingly, 
It  is  given  freely ; 
May  God  bless  the  gift ! 

PKIXCE  HENRY. 

And  the  giver  1 

GOTTLIEB. 

Amen! 

PRINCE   HENRT. 

I  accept  it  1 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEND.  129 


GOTTLIEB. 

Where  are  the  children  V 

URSULA. 

They  are  already  asleep. 

GOTTLIEB. 

What  if  they  were  dead  ? 


IN  THE   GARDEN. 

ELSIE. 

I  HAVE  one  thing  to  ask  of  you. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

What  wit? 
It  is  already  granted. 


Promise  me, 

When  we  are  gone  from  here,  and  on  our  way 
Are  journeying  to  Salerno,  you  will  not, 
By  word  or  deed,  endeavour  to  dissuade  me 
And  turn  me  from  my  purpose ;  but  remember 
That  as  a  pilgrim  to  the  Holy  City 
Walks  unmolested,  and  with  thoughts  of  pardon 
Occupied  wholly,  so  would  I  approach 
The  gates  of  Heaven,  in  this  great  jubilee, 
With  my  petition,  putting  off'  from  me 
All  thoughts  of  earth,  as  shoes  from  off  my  feet 
Promise  me  this. 

PRINCE   IIEXRY. 

Thy  words  fall  from  thy  lipi 
Like  roses  from  the  lips  of  Angelo  :  and  angels 
Might  stoop  to  pick  them  up  1 


13C  THE   GOLDEX   LEGEND 


Will  you  net  promise? 


PRINCE  HESBT. 


If  ever  we  depart  upon  this  journey, 
So  long  to  one  or  both  of  us,  I  promise. 


Shall  we  not  go,  then  ?    Have  you  lifted  me 
Into  the  air,  only  to  hurl  me  back 
"Wounded  upon  the  ground  ?  and  offered  me 
The  waters  of  eternal  life,  to  bid  me 
Drink  the  polluted  puddles  of  this  world  ? 

PRINCE  ITEXKY. 

O  Elsie  !  what  a  lesson  thou  dost  teach  me  1 
The  life  which  is,  and  that  which  is  to  come, 
Suspended  hail"  in  such  nice  equipoise 
A  breath  disturbs  the  balance;  and  that  scale 
In  which  we  throw  our  hearts  preponderates, 
And  the  other,  like  an  empty  one,  Hies  up, 
And  is  accounted  vanity  and  air  ! 
To  me  the  thought  of  death  is  terrible, 
Having  such  hold  on  life.     To  thee  it  is  not 
So  much  even  as  the  lifting  of  a  latch  ; 
Only  a  step  into  the  open  air 
Out  of  a  tent  already  luminous 
With  light  that  shines  through  i  ts  transparent  walli 
O  pure  in  heart!  from  thy  sweet  dust  shall  grow 
Lilies,  upon  whose  petals  will  be  written 
"  Ave  Maria"  in  characters  of  gold  1 


m. 

A   STREET   IN   STRA8BURO. 

KiakL    PRINCE  HENRY  wandering  alone,  wrapped  in  a 
cloak. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

BTIM,  is  the  night    The  sound  of  feet 
Has  died  away  from  the  empty  street, 
And  like  an  artisan,  bending  down 
His  head  on  his  anvil,  the  dark  town 
Sleeps,  with  a  slumber  deep  and  sweet. 
Sleepless  and  restless,  I  alone, 
In  the  dusk  and  damp  of  these  walls  of  stone, 
Wander  and  weep  in  my  remorse  1 

CRIER  OF  TOE  DEAD,  ringing  a  left. 
Wake !  wake ! 
All  ye  that  sleep  ! 
Tray  for  the  Dead  ! 
Tray  for  the  Dead  1 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

ITark  !  with  what  accents  loud  and  hoarse 
This  warder  on  the  walls  of  death 
Sends  forth  the  challenge  of  his  breath  ! 
I  see  the  dead  that  sleep  in  the  grave  ! 
They  rise  up  and  their  garments  wave, 


Dimly  and  spectral,  as  they  rise 
With  the  light    ' 


t  of  another  world  in  their  eyes  1 


CRIER  OF   THE   DEAD. 

Wake !  wake ! 
All  ye  that  sleep  ! 
Pray  for  the  Dead  1 
Tray  for  the  Dead ' 


132  THE   GOLDEX   LEGEND. 

PRIXCE   IIEXRT. 

Why  for  the  dead,  who  are  at  rest  ? 
Pray  lor  the  living,  in  whose  breast 
The  struggle  between  right  and  wrong 
Is  raging  terrible  and  strong, 
As  when  good  angels  war  with  devils  1 
This  is  the  Master  of  the  llevels, 
Who,  at  Life's  (lowing  feast,  proposes 
The  health  of  absent  friends,  and  pledges, 
Not  in  bright  goblets  crowned  with  roses, 
And  tinkling  as  we  touch  their  edges, 
But  with  his  dismal,  tinkling  bell, 
That  mocks  and  mimics  their  funeral  knell ! 

CRIER  OF  TIIE   DEAD. 

Wake !  wake ! 
All  ye  that  sleep  ! 
Pray  lor  the  Dead  ! 
Pray  for  the  Dead! 

PRIXCE   HENRY. 

Wake  not,  beloved  !  be  thy  sleep 
Silent  as  night  is,  and  as  deep  ! 
There  walks  a  sentinel  at  thy  gate 
Whose  heart  is  heavy  and  desolate, 
And  the  heavings  of  whose  bosom  number 
The  respirations  of  thy  slumber, 
As  if  some  strange,  mysterious  fate 
Had  linked  two  hearts  in  one,  and  mine 
Went  madly  wheeling  about  thine, 
Only  with  wider  and  wilder  sweep  I 

C1UKH   OF  THE   DEAD,  at  a  dittatU* 

Wake  !  wake  ! 
All  ye  that  sleep  ! 
Pray  for  the  Dead  I 
Pray  for  the  Dead  I 


T1IE   GOLDEN    LEGEND.  13S 

PRINCE   ITKXRT. 

Lo  !  -with  what  depth  of  blackness  thrown 

Against  tlie  clouds,  far  up  the  skies 

The  walls  of  the  cathedral  rise, 

Like  a  mysterious  prove  of  stone, 

With  fitful  lights  and  shadows  blending, 

As  from  behind,  the  moon,  ascending, 

Lights  its  dim  isles  and  paths  unknown  1 

The  wind  is  rising  ;  but  the  boughs 

Rise  not  and  fall  not  with  the  wind 

That  through  their  foliage  sobs  and  soughs; 

Only  the  cloudy  rack  behind, 

Drifting  onward,  wild  and  ragged, 

Gives  to  each  spire  and  buttress  jagged 

A  seeming  motion  undefined. 

Below  on  the  square,  an  armed  knight, 

Still  as  a  statue  and  as  white, 

Sits  on  his  steed,  and  the  moonbeams  quiver 

Upon  the  points  of  his  armor  bright 

As  on  the  ripples  of  a  river. 

He  lifts  the  visor  from  his  cheek, 

And  beckons,  and  makes  as  he  would  speak. 

WALTER  the  Jftunestnger. 

Friend  !  can  you  tell  me  where  alight 
Thuringia's  horsemen  for  the  night? 
For  I  have  lingered  in  the  rear, 
And  wander  vainly  up  and  down. 

FRINGE  1IENET. 

I  am  a  stranger  in  the  town, 
As  thou  art ;  but  the  voice  I  hear 
Is  not  a  stranger  to  mine  car. 
Thou  art  Walter  of  the  Voirelweid ! 


Thou  hast  guessed  rightly ;  and  t£r  came 
Is  Henry  of  lioheueck  1 


134  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 


Ay,  tlic  same. 
WALTER,  embracing  him, 
Come  closer,  closer  to  my  side  ! 
What  brings  thec  liither  V     Wliat  potent  chirm 
Has  drawn  thce  from  thy  German  iiirm 
Into  the  old  Alsatian  city  ? 

FBINCE   IIEXRY. 

A  tale  of  wonder  and  of  pity  ! 

A  wretched  man,  almost  by  stealth 

Dragging  my  body  to  Salcrn, 

In  the  vain  hope  and  search  for  health, 

And  destined  never  to  return. 

Already  thoti  hast  hoard  the  rest 

But  what  brings  thec,  thus  armed  and  dight 

In  the  equipments  of  a  knight  V 


Dost  thou  not  sec  upon  my  breast 
The  cross  of  the  Crusaders  shine  ? 
My  pathway  leads  to  Palestine. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Ah,  would  that  way  were  also  mine  I 
O  noble  poet!  thou  whose  heart 
Is  like  a  nest  of  singing-birds 
Rocked  on  the  topmost  bough  of  life, 
"Wilt  thou,  too,  from  our  sky  depart, 
And  in  the  clangor  of  the  strife 
Mingle  the  music  of  thy  words  ? 


My  hopes  are  high,  my  heart  is  proud, 
Ami  like  a  trumpet  long  and  loud, 
Thither  my  thoughts  all  dang  and  ring! 
My  life  is  in  my  hand,  and  lo  1 
1  grasp  and  bend  it  as  a  bow, 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD.  135 

And  shoot  forth  from  its  trembling  string 
An  arrow,  that  shall  be,  perchance, 
Like  the  arrow  of  the  Israelite  king 
Shot  from  the  window  toward  the  east, 
That  of  the  Lord's  deliverance ! 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

My  life,  alas  !  is  what  thou  secst  I 

O  enviable  fate  !  to  bo 

Strong,  beautiful,  and  armed  like  thee 

"With  lyre  and  sword,  with  song  and  steel; 

A  hand  to  smite,  a  heart  to  feel  1 

Thy  heart,  thy  hand,  thy  lyre,  thy  sword, 

Thou  givest  all  unto  thy  Lord; 

"While  I,  so  mean  and  abject  grown, 

Am  thinking  of  myself  alone. 


Be  patient :  Time  will  reinstate 
Thy  health  and  ibrtunes. 

PBIXCE  HENRY. 

'T  is  too  lato  I 
I  cannot  strive  against  my  fate  I 

WALTER. 

Come  with  me  ;  for  my  steed  is  weary ; 
Our  journey  has  been  long  and  dreary, 
And,  dreaming  of  his  stall,  he  dints 
With  his  impatient  hools  the  Hints. 

PRINCE  HENRY,   Cuidt. 

J  am  ashamed,  in  my  disgrace, 
To  look  into  that  noble  lace  ! 
To-morrow,  Walter,  let  it  be. 


To-morrow,  at  the  dawn  of  day, 
I  shall  again  be  on  my  way. 


136  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Come  with  me  to  the  hostelry, 
For  I  have  many  things  to  say. 
Our  journey  into  Italy 
Perchance  together  we  may  make; 
Wilt  thou  iiof  do  it  for  my  sake  ? 

ri'.INCK  IIEXRT. 

A  sick  man's  pace  -would  but  impede 
Thine  eager  and  impatient  speed. 
Besides,  my  pathway  leads  me  round 
To  JJirsohau,  in  the  forest's  bound, 
Where  I  assemble  man  and  steed, 
And  all  things  for  my  journey's  need. 

Tlte y  go  out. 

LUCIFER,  ./fy»t<7  over  the  city. 
Sleep,  sleep,  O  city  I  till  the  light 
Wakes  you  to  sin  and  crime  again, 
Whilst  on  your  dreams,  like  dismal  rain, 
I  scatter  downward  through  the  night 
My  maledictions  dark  and  deep. 
I  have  more  martyrs  in  your  walls 
Than  God  has ;  and  they  cannot  sleep ; 
They  are  my  bondsmen  and  my  thralla; 
Their  wretched  lives  are  full  of  pain, 
Wild  agonies  of  nerve  and  brain ; 
And  every  heart-beat,  every  breath, 
Is  a  convulsion  worse  than  death ! 
Sleep,  sleep,  O  city !  though  within 
The  circuit  of  your  walls  there  lies 
No  habitation  free  from  sin, 
Anl  all  its  nameless  miseries ; 
The  aching  heart,  the  aching  head, 
Grief  for  the  living  and  the  dead, 
And  foul  corruption  of  the  time, 
Disease,  distress,  and  want,  and  woe, 
And  crimes,  and  passions  that  may  grow 
Until  they  ripen  into  crime  I 


THE  GOLI>EN  LEGEXD.  137 


SQUARE   IN   FKOXT   OF   TIIE   CATHEDRAL. 

Easter  Sunday.  FRIAR  CUTHDERT  preaching  to  tlit  crowd 
from  a  putjiit  in  the  open  air.  1'ituiCS  UEJJRY  and 
EL.SIK  crossing  tlie  square. 

FRIXCE  HENRY. 

Tnis  is  the  clay,  when  from  the  dead 

Our  Lord  arose;  and  everywhere, 

Out  of  their  darkness  and  despair, 

Triumphant  over  fears  and  foes, 

The  hearts  of  his  disciples  rose, 

When  to  the  women,  standing  near, 

The  Angel  in  shining  vesture  said, 

"  The  Lord  is  risen  ;  he  is  not  here  I" 

And,  mindful  that  the  day  is  come, 

On  all  the  hearths  in  Christendom 

The  fires  a^e  quenched,  to  be  again 

Rekindled  from  the  sun,  that  high 

Is  dancing  in  the  cloudless  sky. 

The  churches  are  all  decked  with  flowers, 

The  salutations  among  men 

Are  but  the  Angel's  words  divine, 

"  Christ  is  arisen  !  "  and  the  bells 

Catch  the  glad  murmur,  as  it  swells, 

And  chaunt  together  in  their  towers. 

All  hearts  are  glad  ;  and  free  from  care 

The  faces  of  the  people  shine. 

See  what  a  crowd  is  in  the  square, 

Gaily  and  gallantly  arrayed  1 

ELSIE. 
Let  us  go  back  ;  I  am  afraid  I 

FRIXCE  HEXRY. 

Nay,  let  us  mount  the  church-steps  here, 

Under  the  doorway's  sacred  shadow  ; 

We  can  see  all  things,  and  be  freer 

From  the  crowd  that  madly  heaves  and  presses  I 


138  THE   GOLDEX   LEGEND. 


Wli.it  a  fray  pageant  I  what  bright  dresses! 
It  looks  lik'e  a  tlower-lxisprinkled  meadow. 
What  is  that  yonder  011  the  square  'I 

PRIXCE  HESKY. 

A  pulpit  in  the  open  air, 

And  a  Friar,  who  is  preaching  to  the  crowd 

In  a  voice  so  deep  and  clear  and  loud, 

That,  if  we  listen,  and  give  heed, 

llis  lowest  words  will  reach  the  car. 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT,  gesticuLitiny  and  cracking  a  pottiSon't 

Wiiij). 

What  ho  !  good  people !  do  you  not  hear  ? 

Dashing  along  at  the  top  of  his  speed, 

Booted  and  spurred,  on  his  jaded  steed, 

A  courier  comes  with  words  of  cheer. 

Courier!  what  is  the  news,  I  pray  ? 

"  Christ  is  arisen!  "    Whence  come  you  ?    "From 

court." 
Then  I  do  not  believe  it ;  you  say  it  in  sport 

Cracks  It  is  w/ii/>  mjnin. 

Ah,  hero  comes  another,  riding  this  way  ; 
We  soon  shall  know  what  he  has  to  say. 
Courier  !  what  are  the  tidings  to-day? 
"  Christ  is  arisen !  "    Whence  come  you  ?    "  From 

town." 
Then  I  do  not  believe  it;  away  with  you,  clown. 

Ci-acLs  hit  whip  more  violently. 

And  here  comes  a  third,  who  is  spurring  amain, 
What  news  do  you  bring,  with  your  loosehanging 

rein, 
Your  spurs  wit  with  blood,  and  your  bridle  with 

loam  V 
M  Christ  is  arisen  I "    Whence  come  you  ?    "  From 

Koine." 

All,  now  1  believe.     He  is  risen,  indeed. 
Ride  on  with  the  news,  at  the  top  of  your  speed  I 
Great  apjtlaiae  antony  the  crowd. 


THE   GOLDEN    LEGEND.  139 

To  come  back  to  my  text !    When  the  news  wai 

first  spread 

That  Christ  was  arisen  indeed  from  the  dead, 
Very  great  was  the  joy  of  the  angels  in  heaven  ; 
And  as  great  the  dispute  as  to  who  should  carry 
Tlie  tidings  thereof  to  the  Virgin  Mary, 
Pierced  to  the  heart  with  sorrows  seven. 
Old  Father  Adam  was  first  to  propose, 
As  being  the  author  of  all  our  woes; 
But  he  was  refused,  for  fear,  said  they, 
lie  would  stop  to  eat  apples  on  the  way  1 
Abel  came  next,  but  petitioned  in  vain, 
Because  he  might  meet  with  his  brother  Cain  ! 
Noah,  too,  was  refused,  les£  his  weakness  for  wine 
Should  delay  him  at  every  tavern-sign ; 
And  John  the  Baptist  could  not  get  a  vote, 
On  account  of  his  old-lashioned,  eamcl's-hair  coat; 
And  the  Penitent  Thief,  who  died  on  the  cross, 
Was  reminded  that  all  his  bones  were  broken  1 
Till  at  last,  when  each  in  turn  had  spoken, 
The  company  being  still  at  a  loss, 
The  Angel,  who  rolled  away  the  stone, 
Was  sent  to  the  sepulchre,  all  alone, 
And  filled  with  glory  that  gloomy  prison, 
And  said  to  the  Virgin,  "  The  Lord  is  arisen  1" 

The,  Cathedral  itlls  ring. 

But  hark  !  the  bells  are  beginning  to  chime ; 
And  I  feel  that  I  am  growing  hoarse. 
I  will  put  an  end  to  my  discourse, 
And  leave  the  rest  for  some  other  time. 
For  the  bells  themselves  are  the  best  of  preachers 
Tlicir  brazen  lips  are  learned  teachers, 
From  their  pulpits  of  stone,  in  the  upper  air, 
Bounding  aloft,  without  crack  or  flaw, 
Shriller  tlian  trumpets  under  the  Law, 
Now  a  sermon  and  now  a  prayer. 
The  clangorous  hammer  is  the  tongue, 
Tliis  way,  that  way,  beaten  and  swung, 
That  from  mouth  of  brass,  as  from  Mouth  of  Gold, 


140         THE  GOLDEN*  LEGEND. 

May  be  taught  (lie  Testaments,  New  and  Old. 
And  alwve  it  the  great  cross-beam  of  wood 
Reprcscntetb  tlie  Holy  Hood, 


Upon  which,  like  tlie  bell,  01 
And  the  wheel  wherewith  it 
Is  the  mind  of  man,  that  rou 
Sways,  and  maketh  the  tong 
And  the  rope,  with  its  twiste 
Denotcth  the  Scriptural  Trii 

r  hopes  arc  hung. 
s  swayed  and  rung 
id  and  round 
le  to  sound  ! 
1  cordage  three, 
for 

Of  Morals,  and  Symbols,  and  History; 

And  the  upward  and  downward  motions  show 

That  we  touch  upon  matters  high  and  low; 

And  the  constant  change  and  transmutation 

Of  action  and  of  contemplation, 

Downward,  the  Scripture  brought  from  on  high, 

Upward,  exalted  a<:ain  to  the  sky  ; 

Downward,  the  literal  interpretation, 

Upward,  the  Vision  and  Mystery  ! 

And  now,  my  hearers,  t«?  make  an  end, 

I  have  only  o:ie  word  more  to  say ; 

In  the  church,  in  honor  of  Easter  day, 

Will  be  represented  a  Miracle  Play; 

And  I  hope  you  will  all  have  the  grace  to  attend. 

Christ  bring  us  at  last  to  his  felicity  ! 

Pax  vofancum  1  et  Benedicitc ! 


THE   CATHEDRAL. 


Kyric  Eleison ! 
Christe  Eleiaou  1 


I  am  at  home  here  in  my  Father's  house  ! 
These  paintings  of  the  Saints  upon  the  walla 
ILive  all  familiar  and  benignant  faces. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  141 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

The  portraits  of  the  family  of  God ! 

Thine  own  hereafter  shall  be  placed  among  them. 


How  very  grand  it  is  and  wonderful ! 
Never  have  I  beheld  a  church  so  splendid ! 
Such  columns,  and  such  arches,  and  such  windows, 
60  many  tombs  and  statues  in  the  chapels, 
And  under  them  so  many  confessionals. 
They  must  be  for  the  rich.     I  should  not  like 
To  tell  my  sins  in  such  a  church  as  this. 
Who  built  it  ? 

PRINCK  HENRY. 

A  great  master  of  his  craft, 
Erwin  von  Stcinbach ;  but  not  lie  alone, 
For  many  generations  labored  with  him. 
Children  that  came  to  see  these  Saints  in  stone, 
As  day  by  day  out  of  the  blocks  they  rose, 
Grew  old  and  died,  and  still  the  work  went  on, 
And  on,  and  on,  and  is  not  yet  completed. 
The  generation  that  succeeds  our  own 
Perhaps  may  finish  it.     The  architect 
Built  his  great  heart  into  these  sculptured  stones, 
And  with  him  toiled  his  children,  and  their  lives 
Were  builded,  with  his  own,  into  the  walls, 
As  oO'erings  unto  God.     You  see  that  statue 
Fixing  its  joyous,  but  deep-wrinkled  eyes 
Upon  the  Pillar  of  the  Angels  yonder. 
That  is  the  image  of  the  master,  carved 
By  the  fair  hand  of  his  own  child,  Sabina. 

ELSIE. 
llow  beautiful  is  the  column  that  he  looks  at  I 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

That,  too,  she  sculptured.     At  the  base  of  it 
Stand  the  Evangelists ;  above  their  heads 


142  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Four  Angels  blowing  upon  marble  trumpets, 
Ami  over  them  the  blessed  Christ,  surrounded 
By  his  attendant  ministers,  upholding 
The  instruments  of  his  passion. 


O  my  Lord! 

Would  I  could  leave  behind  me  upon  earth 
6om*  monument  to  thy  glory,  such  as  this ! 

PRDfCK  IIEXttY. 

A  greater  monument  than  this  thou  leavest 
In  thine  own  life,  all  purity  and  love  1 
See,  too,  the  Rose,  above  the  western  portal 
Flamboyant  with  a  thousand  goi-geous  colors, 
The  perfect  flower  of  Gothic  loveliness  1 

ELSIE. 

And,  in  the  gallery,  the  long  line  of  statues, 
Christ  with  his  twelve  Apostles  watching  us. 

A  BISHOP  in  armor,  booted  and  spurred,  posset  with 
train. 

PRIXCE  ITEXRY. 

But  come  away;  we  have  not  time  to  look. 
The  crowd  already  fills  the  church,  and  yonder 
Upon  a  stage,  a  herald  with  a  trumpet, 
Clad  like  the  Angel  Gabriel,  proclaims 
The  Mystery  that  will  now  be  represented. 


TIfE    NATIVITY. 

A  MIRACLE-PLAY. 
IXTROITUS. 


COME,  good  people,  all  and  each, 
Come  and  listen  to  our  speech ! 
In  your  presence  here  I  stand, 
"With  a  trumpet  in  my  hand, 
To  announce  the  Easter  Play, 
Which  we  represent  to-day  1 
First  of  all  we  shall  rehearse, 
In  our  action  and  our  verse, 
The  Nativity  of  our  Lord, 
As  written  in  the  old  record 
Of  the  Protevangelion, 
So  that  he  who  reads  may  run ! 
Blows  his  trumpet* 


I.   HEAVEN. 

MERCY,  at  the  feet  of  God. 
Have  pity,  Lord  !  be  not  afraid 
To  save  mankind,  whom  thou  hast  made, 
Nor  let  the  souls  that  were  betrayed 
Perish  eternally ! 

(143) 


144  THE   GOLDEN"   LEGEND. 

JC8TICK. 

It  cannot  be,  it  must  not  be ! 
When  iu  the  garden  placed  by  thee, 
The  fruit  of  the  forbidden  tree 
lie  ate,  and  he  must  die ! 


Have  pity,  Lord  I  let  penitence 
Atone  for  disobedience, 
Nor  let  the  fruit  of  man's  offence 
Be  endless  misery  1 


What  penitence  proportionate 
Can  e'er  be  felt  for  sin  so  great  ? 
Of  the  forbidden  fruit  he  ate, 
And  damned  must  he  be ! 


Ho  shall  be  saved,  if  that  within 
The  bounds  of  earth  one  free  from  sin 
Be  found,  who  for  his  kith  and  kin 
Will  sull'cr  martyrdom. 

THE  FOUR  VIRTUES. 

Lord  !  we  have  searched  the  world  around, 
From  centre  to  the  utmost  bound, 
But  no  such  mortal  can  be  found  ; 
Despairing,  back  we  come. 

WISDOM. 

No  mortal,  but  a  God  made  man, 
Can  ever  carry  out  this  plan, 
Achieving  what  none  other  can, 
Salvation  unto  all  ! 


Go,  then,  O  my  beloved  Son  I 
It  can  by  thee  'alone  be  done; 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  145 

By  thec  the  victory  shall  be  won 
O'er  Satan  and  the  Fall  1 

ffere  the  AXOF.L  G,vm:iKL  shall  leave  Paradise  and  Jly 
toward*  Vie  earth;  the  jaws  uf  Hell  open  below,  and  the 
Devil*  walk  about,  making  a  yreat  noise. 


II.  MARY  AT  THE   WELL. 


Along  the  garden  walk,  and  thence 
Through  the  wicket  in  the  garden  fence, 

I  steal  with  quiet  pace, 
My  pitcher  at  the  well  to  fill, 
That  lies  so  deep  and  cool  and  still 

In  this  sequestered  place. 
These  sycamores  keep  guard  around; 
I  see  no  face,  I  hear  no  sound, 

Save  babblings  of  the  spring, 
And  ray  companions,  who  within 
The  threads  of  gold  and  scarlet  spin, 

And  at  their  labor  sing. 

THB  AKOEL  GABRIEL. 

Hail,  Virgin  Mary,  full  of  grace  I 

Eere  MARY  lookcih  around  her,  trembling,  and  then  tatAi 


Who  is  it  speaketh  in  this  place, 
With  such  a  gentle  voice  ? 

GABRIEL. 

The  Lord  of  heaven  is  with  thee  now ! 
Blessed  among  all  women  thou, 
Who  art  his  holy  choice  1 

MARY,  i elting  down  the  pitcher. 
What  can  this  mean  ?    No  one  is  near, 

VOL.   II.  10 


140  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

And  yet  such  sacred  words  I  hear, 
I  almost  fear  to  stay. 

Iff  re  tie  ANGKL,  appearing  la  her,  thaS  «aj 


Fear  not,  O  Mary  !  but  believe  I 
For  thou,  a  Virgin,  s-halt  conceive 
A  child  this  very  day. 

Fear  not,  O  Mary  !  from  the  sky 
The  majesty  of  the  Most  High 
Shall  overshadow  thee ! 

MART. 

Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord! 
According  to  thy  holy  word, 
So  be  it  unto  me ! 

Here  the  Denis  shall  again  make  a  great  noise,  under  At 


III.   THE   ANGELS   OF   THE   SEVEN   PLANETS, 
bearing  the  Star  of  Be&lehem. 

THE  ANGELS. 

The  Angels  of  the  Planets  Seven, 
Across  the  shining  fields  of  heaven 

The  natal  star  we  bring  ! 
Dropping  our  sevenfold  virtues  down, 
As  priceless  jewels  in  the  crown 

Of  Christ,  our  new-born  King. 


I  am  the  Angel  of  the  Sun, 
Whose  (laming  wheels  began  to  run 

When  God's  almighty  breath 
Said  to  the  darkness  and  the  Night, 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  I*/ 

Let  there  be  light !  and  there  was  light ' 
I  bring  tho  gilt  of  Faith. 


I  am  the  Angel  of  the  Moon, 
Darkened,  to  be  rekindled  soon 

Beneath  the  azure  cope ! 
Nearest  to  earth,  it  is  my  ray 
That  best  illumes  the  midnight  way. 

I  bring  the  gift  of  Hope  1 


Tho  Angel  of  tho  Star  of  Love, 
The  Evening  Star,  that  shines  above 

The  place  where  lovers  be, 
Above  all  happy  hearths  and  homes, 
On  roofs  of  thatch,  or  golden  domes, 

I  give  him  Charity  1 

ZOBIACIIEL. 

The  Planet  Jupiter  is  mine  ! 

The  mightiest  star  of  all  that  shine, 

Except  the  sun  alone ! 
Ho  is  the  High  Priest  of  the  Dove, 
And  scuds,  from  his  great  throne  above, 

Justice,  that  shall  atone  ! 


The  Planet  Mercury,  -whose  place 
Is  nearest  to  the  sun  in  space. 

Is  my  allotted  sphere  ! 
And  with  celestial  ardor  swift 
I  bear  upon  my  hands  the  gift 

Of  heavenly  Prudence  here  1 


I  am  the  Minister  of  Mars, 
The  strongest  star  among  the  stars! 
My  songs  of  power  prelude 


148  THE   GOLDEN   LKQEITO. 

The  march  and  battle  of  m-Ws  life, 
And  for  the  sulfering  and  the  strife, 
I  give  him  Fortitude  1 


The  Angel  of  the  uttermost 

Of  all  the  shining,  heavenly  host, 

From. the  far-oil'  expanse 
Of  the  Saturnian,  endless  space 
I  bring  the  last,  the  crowning  grace, 

The  gift  of  Temperance  ! 

4  mdJen  light  shines  from  the  windows  of  the  tlaUe  in  &t 

village  btlow. 


IV.      THE    VTISE   MEX   OF   THE   EAST. 

The  stable  of  tJte  Inn.     Tlie,  VIRGIN  and  Cnn.n.     Thret 

Gijistj  Kings,  GASI-EK,  MCLCIUOU,  and  tit 

sftuU  come  in. 

CASPAR. 

[Tail  to  thcc,  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ! 

Though  in  a  manger  thou  d rawest  thy  breath, 

Thou  art  greater  than  Life  and  Death, 

Greater  than  Joy  or  Woe ! 
This  cross  ujxm  the  line  of  lifo 
Portendeth  struggle,  toil,  and  strife, 
And  through  a  region  with  dangers  rife 

In  darkness  shall  thou  go  I 

MKLCHIOR. 

Hail  to  thcc,  King  of  Jerusalem  ! 
Though  humbly  born  in  Bethlehem, 
A  sceptre  and  a  diadem 

Await  thy  brow  and  hand  1 
The  sceptre  is  a  simple  reed, 
The  crown  will  make  thy  temples  bleed, 
And  in  thy  hour  of  greatest  need, 

Abashed  thy  subjects  stand  I 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  149 

BELSHA7/AR. 

Hail  to  thce,  Christ  of  Christendom  I 
O'er  all  the  earth  thy  kingdom  coine  1 
From  distant  Trebizond  to  lloino 

Thy  name  shall  men  adore  ! 
Peace  and  pood-will  among  all  men, 
The  Virgin  has  returned  again, 
Returned  the  old  Saturuian  reign 

And  Golden  Age  once  more. 

TIIE  CHILD  CHRIST. 

Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  am  I, 
Born  here  to  sutler  and  to  die 
According  to  the  prophecy, 
That  other  men  ruay  live ! 

THE  VIRGIN. 

And  now  these  clothes,  that  wrapped  him,  take 
And  keep  them  precious,  for  his  sake; 
Our  benediction  thus  we  make, 
Naught  else  have  we  to  give. 

She  gives  them  swaddllng-clotiies,  and  they  depart. 


V.      THE  FLIGHT  LNTO   EGYPT. 

Here  tliaU  JOSEPH  come  in,  leading  an  ass,  on  icftidk  at\ 
seated  MAKY  and  lite  CHILD. 


flcre  will  we  rest  us,  under  these 
O'crhanging  branches  of  the  trees, 
Where  robins  chant  their  Litanies, 
And  canticles  of  Joy. 


My  saddle-girths  have  given  way 
With  trudging  through  the  heat  to-day ; 
To  you  I  think  it  is  but  play 
To  ride  and  bold  tiic  boy. 


150  THE   GOLDEX   LEGEXD. 


Hark !  how  tlic  robins  shout  and  sing, 
As  if  to  hail  their  infant  King! 
I  will  alight  at  yonder  spring 
To  wash  hid  little  coat. 

JOSEPH. 

And  I  will  hobble  well  the  ass, 
Lest,  being  loose  upon  the  «rrrt?s, 
lie  should  escape ;  for,  by  the  mass, 
lie  is  nimble  as  a  goat 

Here  UAKY  tliall  uliyld  and  go  to  the  $pring. 

MART. 

0  Joseph !  I  am  much  afraid, 

For  men  are  sleeping  in  the  shade ; 

1  fear  that  we  shall  bo  waylaid, 

And  robbed  and  beaten  sore ! 

Here  a  band  of  rotAe rt  sltnU  be  seen  sleeping,  two  qfidtoa 
sliali  rise  and  come  forward 

DCMACIIU3. 

Cock's  soul !  deliver  up  your  gold ! 

josEi-n. 

I  pray  you,  Sirs,  let  go  your  hold! 
You  see  that  I  am  weak  and  old, 
Of  wealth  I  have  no  s'ore. 

DUatACITUS. 

Give  up  your  money  ! 


Prithee 
Let  these  good  people  go  in  peace. 

DCMACIIUg. 

First  let  them  pay  for  their  release, 
And,  then  go  oil  their  way. 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  151 


Tlicso  forty  groats  I  give  in  fee, 
If  thou  wilt  only  silent  be. 

MART. 

May  God  be  merciful  to  theo 
Upon  the  Judgment  Day  ! 


"When  thirty  years  shall  have  gone  by, 

I  at  Jerusalem  shall  die, 

13y  Jewish  hands  exalted  high 

On  the  accursed  tree. 
Then  on  my  right  and  my  left  side, 
These  thieves  shall  both  be  crucified, 
And  Titus  thenceforth  shall  abide 

In  paradise  with  me. 

Here  a  tjrent  rumor  of  trumpets  and  horses,  like  the  noite  of 
a  tiny  with  kis  army,  and  tiie  rubbers  sliall  lake  jiigkt. 


VI.      THE  SLAUGHTER  OF   THE  INNOCENTS. 

KINO  IIEKOD. 

Potz-tausend !     Ilimmel-sacrament ! 
Filled  am  I  with  great  wonderment 

At  this  unwelcome  news  ! 
Am  I  not  Herod  ?     Who  shall  dare 
My  crown  to  take,  my  sceptre  bear, 

As  king  among  the  Jews  ? 

Here  he  shall  stride  ti/>  and  dwcn  awl  flourish  ha  noord, 
What  ho  1     I  fain  would  drink  a  can 
Of  the  strong  wine  of  Canaan  I 

The  wine  of  llelbon  brin<_r, 
I  purchased  at  the  Fair  of  Tyre, 
As  red  as  blood,  as  hot  as  fire, 

And  fit  for  any  king ! 

lit  quajj's  ijreat  goblets  of  wint 
Now  at  the  window  will  I  stand, 


151  THE   GOLDEX  LEGEXD. 

While  in  the  street  the  armed  band 

The  little  children  slay  : 
The  babe  just  born  in  lirthlchem 
Will  surely  slaughtered  be  with  them, 

Nor  live  another  day  I 

litre  a  voice  of  lamentation  sliall  be  heard  in  the  tlrtdk 

RACHEL. 

O  wicked  king !     O  cruel  speed ! 
To  do  this  most  unrighteous  deed  1 
My  children  all  are  slain  I 


Ho  seneschal !  another  cup ! 

With  wine  of  Sorek  Jill  it  up  ! 

I  would  a  bumper  drain  1 

RAIIAB. 

May  maledictions  fall  and  blast 
Thvself  and  lineage,  to  the  last 
Of  all  thy  kith  and  kin! 


Another  goblet !  quick  1  and  stir 
Pomegranate  juice  and  drops  of  myrrh 
And  calamus  therein  1 

SOLDIERS,  in  Hie  ttreet. 
Give  up  thy  child  into  our  hands  1 
It  is  King  llerod  who  commands 
That  he  should  thus  be  slain  ! 

THE  NURSE   MEDUSA. 

O  monstrous  men  !    What  have  ye  done  1 
It  is  King  Herod's  only  son 
That  ye  have  cleft  in  twain  ! 

HEROD. 
Ah,  luckless  day  I    What  words  of  fear 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEXD.  15S 

Are  these  that  srnite  upon  my  car 

With  such  a  doleful  sound ! 
What  torments  rack  my  heart  and  head ! 
Would  I  were  dead !  would  I  were  dead, 

And  buried  in  the  ground  1 

Ue  falls  down  and  writhes  as  though  eaten  by  worms,     ffett 
opens,  and  SATAN  and  ASTAUOTU  come  forth,  and  drag 


VII.    JESUS  AT  PLAY  WITH    HIS    SCHOOLMATES. 
JESUS. 

The  shower  is  over.    Let  us  play, 
Ajid  make  some  sparrows  out  of  clay, 
Down  by  the  river's  side. 


See,  how  the  stream  has  overflowed 
Its  banks,  and  o'er  the  meadow  road 
Is  spreading  far  and  wide  1 

They  draw  water  out  of  Oie  rirer  by  channels,  and  form 
little  jiools.  JESUS  maket  twelce  sparrows  of  clay ,  and  the 
odier  boys  dt  tiie  same. 

JESUS. 

Look !  look  I  how  prettily  I  mako 
These  little  sparrows  by  the  lake 

Bend  down  their  necks  and  drink  I 
Now  will  I  make  them  sing  and  soar 
So  far,  they  shall  return  no  more 

Unto  this  river's  briuk. 


That  canst  thou  not !     They  are  but  clay, 
They  cannot  sing,  nor  fly  away 
Above  the  meadow  lauds  1 


154  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

JESUS. 

Fly,  fly  !  ye  sparrows  !  you  arc  freo 
And  wliilp.  you  live,  remember  me, 

Who  made  you  with  my  hands. 
Here  JusvBtlKtU  dap  hit  IM*,  <wl  tite  tparrou*  thaH  ,/fj, 
away,  t:lurruj>ing. 

JUDAS. 

Tliou  art  a  sorcerer,  I  know  ; 

Oft  has  niy  mother  told  me  so, 

I  will  not  play  with  thee  ! 

He  ttriket  JESUS  on  the  right  tide. 

JESUS. 

Ah,  Judas !  thou  hast  smote  my  side, 
And  when  I  shall  be  cricified, 
There  shall  1  pierced  be  ! 

litre  JosKi-ii  sitnll  conie  in,  and  tail : 

JOSEPH. 

Ye  wicked  boys !  why  do  ye  play, 
And  break  the  holy  Sabbath  day? 
What,  think  ye,  will  your  mothers  say 

To  see  you  in  such  plight ! 
In  such  a  sweat  and  such  a  heat, 
With  all  that  mud  upon  your  feet  I 
There  's  not  a  beggar  in  the  street 

Alakcs  such  a  sorry  sight  1 


VIII.   THE   VILLAGE   SCHOOL. 

The  RABBI  DEN  ISRAEL  with  a  /ony  btar<l,  titling  on  a 
hijk  itool,  icilh  a  rod  in  kit  hand. 

RA1JIH. 

J  am  the  Rabbi  Ben  Israel, 

Throughout  this  village  known  full  well, 
And,  as  my  scholars  all  will  tell, 
Learned  in  things  iLviue  ; 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  155 


The  Kabala  and  Talmud  hoar 
Than  all  the  prophets  prize  I  more, 
For  water  is  all  Bible  lore, 
But  Mishna  is  strong  wine. 

My  fame  extends  from  West  to  East, 
And  always,  at  the  Purim  feast, 
I  am  as  drunk  as  any  beast 

That  wallows  in  bis  sty ; 
The  wine  it  so  clatetb  me, 
That  I  no  difference  can  see 
Between  "  Accursed  llaman  be  1 " 

And  "  Blessed  be  Mordecai ! " 

Come  hither,  Judas  IscarioL 
Say,  if  thy  lesson  thou  hast  got 
From  the  Rabbinical  Book  or  not. 
Why  howl  the  dogs  at  night  ? 

JUDAS. 

In  the  Rabbinical  Book,  it  saitb 
The  do<js  howl,  when  with  icy  breath 
Great  Sammael,  the  Angel  of  Death, 
Takes  through  the  town  his  ilight  1 


Well,  boy  !  now  say,  if  thou  art  wise, 
When  the  Angel  of  Death,  who  is  full  of  ejei, 
Conies  where  a  sick  man  dying  lies, 
What  doth  he  to  the  wight  ? 

JUDAS. 

He  stands  beside  him,  dark  and  tall, 
Holding  a  sword,  from  which  doth  fall 
Into  his  mouth  a  drop  of  gall, 
And  so  he  turneth  white. 


156  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD. 

RABBI. 

And  now,  my  Judas,  say  to  mo 
What  ihcs  <jrcat  Voices  Four  may  be, 
That  quite  across  the  world  do  Hue, 
And  are  not  heard  by  nicu  ? 


The  Voice  of  the  Sun  in  heaven's  dome, 
The  Voice  of  the  Murmuring  of  Home, 
The  Voice  of  a  Soul  that  pocth  homw, 
And  the  Angel  of  the  llain  ! 

RABBI. 

Well  have  ye  answered  every  one  I 
Now  little  Jesus,  the  carpenter's  son, 
Let  us  sec  how  thy  task  is  done. 
Canst  thou  thy  letters  say  V 

JESUS. 
Aleph. 

RABBI. 

What  next  ?    Do  not  stop  yet  I 
Go  on  with  all  the  alphabet. 
Come,  Alcph,  Beth  ;  dost  thou  forget  ? 
Cock's  soul  1  thou  Mat  rather  play  I 


What  Aleph  means  I  fain  would  know, 
Before  I  any  farther  go ! 

RABBI. 

O,  by  Saint  Peter !  wouldst  thou  so  ? 

Come  hither,  boy,  to  me. 
As  surely  as  the  letter  Jod 
Once  cried  aloud,  and  spake  to  God, 
So  surely  shalt  thou  feel  this  rod, 

And  punished  shalt  thou  be  ! 
Uere  RABBI  BEN  ISRAEL  tltnll  lift  up  hit  rod  to 
Jfi&us,  and  hit  rijlit  arm  iliali  U  paralytdd. 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  157 


IX.    CROWXED   WITH  FLOWERS. 

JESUS  Billing  among  Ids  playmates,  crowned  irith  Jloweri 
as  tlteir  King. 


We  spread  our  garments  on  the  ground  I 
With  fragrant  flowers  thy  head  is  crowned, 
While  like  a  guard  we  stand  around, 

And  hail  thee  as  onr  King  1 
Thou  art  the  new  King  of  the  Jews  I 
Nor  let  the  passers-by  refuse 
To  bring  that  homage  which  men  use 

To  majesty  to  bring. 

Here  a  traveller  thall  go  by,  and  ffie  boys  thaU  Jay  hold 
of  his  garments  and  say : 

BOTS. 

Come  hither !  and  all  reverence  pay 
Unto  our  monarch,  crowned  to-day  I 
Then  go  rejoicing  on  your  way, 
In  all  prosperity  I 

TRAVELLER. 

Hail  to  the  King  of  Bethlehem, 
Who  wcarcth  in  his  diadem 
The  yellow  crocus  for  the  gem 

Of  his  authority  1 

lit  pauet  by;  and  oUters  come  in,  bearinq  on  a  UtUr  a 
sick  child. 


Set  down  the  litter  and  draw  near  1 
The  King  of  Bethlehem  is  here  ! 
Wliat  ails  the  child,  who  seems  to  fear 
That  we  shall  do  him  harm  ? 


158  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

TTIK   BKAHERS. 

He  climbed  up  to  tin;  robin's  nest, 
And  out  tlicrc.  darted,  from  his  rest, 
A  serpent  willi  a  crimson  crest, 
And  stung  him  iu  the  arm. 


Bring;  him  to  me,  and  let  me  feel 
The  wounded  place ;  my  touch  can  heal 
.I'hc  stint:  of  serpents,  and  can  steal 
The  poison  from  the  bite  ! 

He  touches  the  wound,  and  the  boy  begitu  to  cry. 

Cease  to  lament !    I  can  foresee 
That  tliou  hercafler  known  shall  be, 
Amonir  the  men  who  follow  me, 
As  Simon  the  Canaauitc  1 


In  the  after  part  of  the  day 
"\Vill  be  represented  another  play, 
Of  the  Passion  of  our  Ulessed  Lord, 
Beginning  directly  after  Nones! 
At  the  close  of  which  we  shall  accord, 
By  way  of  benison  and  reward, 
The  sight  of  a  holy  Martyr's  bones  1 


THE  GOLDEX   LEGEND.  159 


IV. 

THE   ROAD   TO   niKSCHAU. 
PBISCK    HENRY   and  ELSIE,   with  their  allendantt,    on 


ELSIE. 

and  onward  tlie  highway  runs  to  the 
distant  city,  impatiently  bearing 
Tidings  of  human  joy  and   disaster,  of  love  and 
of  hate,  of  doing  and  daring  1 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

This  life  of  ours  is  a  wild  a:olian  harp  of  many  a 

joyous  strain, 
But  under  them  all  there  runs  a  loud  perpetual 

wail,  as  of  souls  in  pain. 

ELSIE. 

Faith  alone  can  interpret  life,  and  the  heart  that 

aches  and  bleeds  with  the  stigma 
Of  pain,  alone  bears  the  likeness  of  Christ,  and 

can  comprehend  its  dark  enigma. 

PRINCE  ITEXBT. 

Man  is  selfish,  and  seeketh  pleasure  "with  little  caro 

of  what  may  betide  ; 
Else   why   am   I   travelling  here  beside  thee,  a 

demon  that  rides  by  an  angel's  side  ? 


All  the  hedges  are  white  with  dust,  and  the  great 

dog  under  the  creaking  wain 
Hangs  his  head  in  the  lazy  heat,  wt Je  onward  th» 

horses  toil  and  strain. 


160  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 


ntlNCK  1IKXKT. 


Now  they  stop  at  the  way-side  inn,  and  thewagonc? 

laughs  with  the  landlord's  daughter, 
While  out  of  the  dripping  trough  the  horses  distend 

their  leathern  sides  with  water. 


All  through  life  there   are  way-side  inns,  where 

man  may  refresh  his  soul  with  love ; 
Even  the  lowest  may  quench  his  thirst  at  rivulets 
.    fed  by  springs  from  above. 

PRLXCE  HEXRT. 
Yonder,  where  rises  the  cross  of  stone,  our  journey 

along  the  highway  ends, 
And  over  the  fields,  by  a  bridle  path,  down  into 

the  broad  green  valley  descends. 


I  am  not  sorry  to  leave  behind  the  beaten  road 

with  its  dust  and  heat ; 
The  air  will  be  sweeter  far,  and  the  turf  will  be 

softer  under  horses'  feet. 

They  turn  thorn  a  green  Jane, 

ELSIE. 

Sweet  is  the  air  with  the  budding  haws,  and  the 

valley  stretching  for  miles  below 
la  white  with  blossoming  cherry-trees,  as  if  just 

covered  with  lightest  snow. 

PRINCE   IIKJfBT. 

Over  our  heads    a    white    cascade    is  gleaming 

against  the  distant  hill ; 
We  cannot  hear  it,  nor  see  it  move,  but  it  hangs 

like  a  banner  when  winds  arc  still. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  161 


Damp  and  cool  is  this  deep  ravine,  and  cool  the 

sound  of  the  brook  by  our  side  1 
What  is  this  castle  that  rises  above  us,  and  lords 

it  over  a  land  so  wide  ? 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

It  is  the  home  of  the  Counts  of  Calva ;  well  have 
I  known  these  scenes  of  old, 

\l  ell  I  remember  each  tower  and  turret,  remem- 
ber the  brooklet,  the  wood,  and  the  wold. 


Hark !  from  the  little  village  below  us  the  bells  of 

the  church  are  ringing  for  rain  I 
Priests  and  peasants  in  long  procession  come  forth 

and  kneel  on  the  arid  plain. 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

They  have  not  long  to  wait,  for  I  see  in  the  south 

uprising  a  little  cloud, 
That  before  the  sun  shall  be  set  will  cover  the  sky 

above  us  as  with  a  shroud. 
They  past  on. 


THE    CONVENT    OF    HIRSCHATJ    IN    THE    BLACK 
FOREST. 

1\o  Convent  cellar.    FRIAR  GLAUS  comes  in  wUh  a  light 
and  a  basket  of  empty  flagons. 

FRIAR   CLAUS. 

1  ALWAYS  enter  this  sacred  place 
With  a  thoughtful,  solemn,  and  reverent  pace, 
Pausing  long  enough  on  each  stair 
To  breathe  an  ejaculatory  prayer, 
And  a  benediction  on  the  vines 
That  produce  these  various  sorts  of  wines  I 
YOL.  II.  11 


162  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

For  my  part,  I  am  -well  content 

That  we  have  pot  through  with  the  tedious  Lent 

Fasting  is  all  very  well  for  those 

Who  have  to  contend  with  invisible  foes; 

But  I  am  quite  sure  it  does  not  agree 

With  a  quiet,  peaceable  man  like  me, 

Who  am  not  of  that  nervous  and  meagre  kind 

That  are  always  distressed  in  body  and  mind  I 

And  at  times  it  really  does  me  good 

To  come  down  among  this  brotherhood, 

Dwelling  forever  under  ground, 

Silent,  contemplative,  round  and  sound ; 

Each  one  old,  and  brown  with  mould, 

But  filled  to  the  lips  with  the  ardor  of  youth, 

With  the  latent  power  and  love  of  truth, 

And  with  virtues  fervent  and  manifold. 

I  have  heard  it  said,  that  at  Easter-tide, 

When  buds  are  swelling  on  every  side, 

And  the  sap  begins  to  move  in  the  vine, 

Then  in  all  the  cellars,  far  and  wide, 

The  oldest,  as  well  as  the  newest,  wine 

Begins  to  stir  itself,  and  ferment, 

With  a  kind  of  revolt  and  discontent 

At  being  so  long  in  darkness  pent, 

And  fain  would  burst  from  its  sombre  tun 

To  bask  on  the  hill-side  in  the  sun ; 

As  in  the  bosom  of  us  poor  friars, 

The  tumult  of  half-subdued  desires 

For  the  world  that  we  have  lefl  behind 

Disturbs  at  times  all  peace  of  mind  1 

And  now  that  we  have  lived  through  Len^ 

My  duty  it  is,  as  often  before, 

To  open  awhile  the  prison-door, 

And  give  these  restless  spirits  vent. 

Now  here  is  a  cask  that  stands  alone, 
And  has  stood  a  hundred  years  or  more, 
Its  beard  of  cobwebs,  long  and  hoar, 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD  168 

Trailing  and  sweeping  along  the  floor, 
Like  Barbarossa,  who  sits  in  his  cave, 
Taciturn,  sombre,  sedate,  and  grave, 
Till  his  beard  has  grown  through  the  table  of  stone  i 
It  is  of  the  quick  and  not  of  the  dead ! 
In  its  veins  the  blood  is  hot  and  red, 
And  a  heart  still  beats  in  those  ribs  of  oak 
That  time  may  have  tamed,  but  has  not  broke  I 
It  comes  from  Baeharach  on  the  Rhine, 
Is  one  of  the  three  best  kinds  of  wine, 
And  costs  some  hundred  florins  the  ohm, 
But  that  I  do  not  consider  dear, 
When  I  remember  that  every  year 
Four  butts  are  sent  to  the  Pope  of  Rome. 
And  whenever  a  goblet  thereof  I  drain, 
The  old  rhyme  keeps  running  in  my  brain : 
At  Baeharach  on  the  Rhine, 
At  Hochhcim  on  the  Main, 
And  at  Wiirzburg  on  the  Stein, 
Grow  the  three  best  kinds  of  wine  I 

They  are  all  good  wines,  and  better  far 

Than  those  of  the  Neckar,  or  those  of  the  Ahr. 

In  particular,  Wurzburg  well  may  boast 

Of  its  blessed  wine  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 

Which  of  all  wines  I  like  the  most. 

This  I  shall  draw  for  the  Abbot's  drinking, 

Who  seems  to  be  much  of  my  way  of  thinking. 

Fills  a  flagon, 

Ah  !  how  the  streamlet  laughs  and  sings  1 
What  a  delicious  fragrance  springs 
From  the  deep  flagon,  while  it  fills, 
As  of  hyacinths  and  daffodils  ! 
Between  this  cask  and  the  Abbot's  lips 
Many  have  been  the  sips  and  slips  ; 
Many  have  been  the  draughts  of  wine, 

On  their  way  to  his,  that  have  stopped  at  mine ; 

And  many  a  time  my  soul  has  hankered 


164  THE   COMDEX   LEGEND. 

For  a  deep  draught  out  of  his  silver  tankard, 
When  it  should  have  been  busy  with  other  affair*, 
Less  with  its  longings  and  more  with  its  prayers. 
But  now  there  is  no  such  awkward  condition, 
No  danger  of  death  and  eternal  perdition  ; 
So  here  's  to  the  Abbot  and  Brothers  all, 
Who  dwell  in  this  convent  of  Peter  and  Paul  1 

ITe  drink* 

O  cordial  delicious !     O  soother  of  pain  1 
It  flashes  like  sunshine  into  my  brain ! 
A  benison  rest  on  the  Bishop  who  sends 
Such  a  fudder  of  wine  as  this  to  his  friends ! 

And  now  a  flagon  for  such  as  may  ask 

A  draught  from  the  noble  Bacharach  cask, 

And  I  will  be  gone,  though  I  know  full  well 

The  cellar  's  a  cheerfuller  place  than  the  cell. 

Behold  where  he  stands,  all  sound  and  good, 

Brown  and  old  in  his  oaken  hood ; 

Silent  he  seems  externally 

As  any  Carthusian  monk  may  be ; 

But  within,  what  a  spirit  of  deep  unrest ! 

What  a  seething  and  simmering  in  his  breast  I 

As  if  the  heaving  of  his  great  heart 

Would  burst  his  belt  of  oak  apart  1 

Let  me  unloose  this  button  of  wood, 

And  quiet  a  little  his  turbulent  mood. 

Sets  it  running. 

Sec  !  how  its  currents  gleam  and  shine, 
As  if  they  had  caught  the  purple  hues 
Of  autumn  sunsets  on  the  Rhine, 
Descending  anl  mingling  with  the  dews; 
Or  as  if  the  grapes  were  stained  with  the  blood 
Of  the  innocent  boy,  who,  some  years  back, 
Was  taken  and  crucified  by  the  Jews, 
tn  that  ancient  town  of  Bocharach  ; 
Perdition  upon  those  infidel  Jews, 


THE    GOLDEN   LEGEXD.  165 

In  that  anoient  town  of  Bacharach  I 
The  beautiful  town,  that  gives  us  wine 
With  the  fragrant  odor  of  Muscadine  ! 
I  should  deem  it  wrong  to  let  this  pass 
Without  first  touching  my  lips  to  the  glass, 
For  here  in  the  midst  of  the  current  I  stand, 
Like  the  stone  Pfalz  in  the  midst  of  the  river, 
Taking  toll  upon  either  hand, 
And  much  more  grateful  to  the  giver. 

He  drinks. 

Here,  now,  is  a  very  inferior  kind, 
Such  as  in  any  town  you  may  find, 
Such  as  one  might  imagine  would  suit 
The  rascal  who  drank  wine  out  of  a  boot. 
And,  after  all,  it  was  not  a  crime, 
For  he  won  thereby  Dorf  Hutl'elshcim. 
A  jolly  old  toper !  who  at  a  pull 
Could  drink  a  postilion's  jack-boot  full, 
And  ask  with  a  laugh,  when  that  was  done, 
If  the  fellow  had  left  the  other  one  ! 
This  wine  is  as  good  as  we  can  afford 
To  the  friars,  who  sit  at  the  lower  board, 
And  cannot  distinguish  bad  from  good, 
And  are  far  better  off  than  if  they  could, 
Being  rather  the  rude  disciples  of  beer 
Than  of  any  thing  more  refined  and  dear ! 

FiUs  the  other  flagon  and  departs 


THE   SCRIPTORIUM. 
FRIAR  PACIFICCS  transcribing  and  illuminating, 

MtlAR  PACIFICUS. 

IT  is  growing  dark !     Yet  one  line  more, 
And  then  my  work  for  to-day  is  o'er. 
I  come  again  to  the  name  of  the  Lord  I 


166  T1IE   dOLDEN   LEGEXD. 

Ere  I  that  awful  name  record, 
That  is  spoken  so  lightly  among  men, 
Let  mo  pause  awhile,  and  wash  my  pen ; 
Pure  from  blemish  and  blot  must  it  be 
When  it  writes  that  word  of  mystery ! 

Thus  have  I  labored  on  and  on, 

Nearly  through  the  Gospel  of  John. 

Can  it  be  that  from  the  lips 

Of  this  same  gentle  Evangelist, 

That  Christ  himself  perhaps  has  kissed, 

Came  the  dread  Apocalypse  1 

It  has  a  very  awful  look, 

As  it  stands  there  at  the  cud  of  the  book, 

Like  the  sun  in  an  eclipse. 

Ah  me  !  when  I  think  of  that  vision  divine, 

Think  of  writing  it,  line  by  line, 

I  stand  in  awe  of  the  terrible  curse, 

Like  the  trump  of  doom,  in  the  closing  verae. 

God  forgive  me !  if  ever  I 

Take  aught  from  the  book  of  that  Prophecy, 

Lest  my  part  too  should  be  taken  away 

From  the  Book  of  Life  on  the  Judgment  Day. 

This  is  well  written,  though  I  say  it  1 
I  should  not  be  afraid  to  display  it, 
In  open  day,  on  the  selfsame  shelf 
With  the  writings  of  St.  Thecla  herself, 
Or  of  Thcodosius,  who  of  old 
Wrote  the  Gospels  in  letters  of  gold  1 
That  goodly  folio  standing  yonder, 
Without  a  single  blot  or  blunder, 
Would  not  bear  away  the  palm  from  mine, 
If  we  should  compare  them  line  for  line. 

There,  now,  is  an  initial  letter  1 
Saint  Ulric  himself  never  made  a  better  t 
Finished  down  to  the  leaf  and  the  snail, 
Down  to  the  eyes  on  the  peacock's  tail  1 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD.  167 

And  now,  as  T  turn  the  volume  over, 

And  sec  what  lies  between  cover  and  cover, 

What  treasures  of  art  these  pastes  hold, 

AH  ablaze  with  crimson  and  gold, 

God  forgive  me  !  I  seem  to  feel 

A  certain  satisfaction  steal 

Into  my  heart,  and  into  my  brain, 

As  if  my  talent  had  not  lain 

Wrapped  in  a  napkin,  and  all  in  vain. 

Yes,  I  might  almost  say  to  the  Lord, 

Here  \a  a  copy  of  thy  Word, 

Written  out  with  much  toil  and  pain ; 

Take  it,  O  Lord,  and  let  it  be 

As  something  I  have  done  for  thee  I 

He  looks  from  the  window. 

How  sweet  the  air  is  !    How  fair  the  scene ! 
I  wish  I  had  as  lovely  a  green 
To  paint  my  landscapes  and  my  leaves  ! 
How  the  swallows  twitter  under  the  eaves  I 
There,  now,  there  is  one  in  her  nest ; 
t  can  just  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  head  and  breast, 
And  will  sketch  her  thus,  in  her  quiet  nook. 
For  the  margin  of  my  Gospel  book. 
He  mokes  a  sketch, 

I  can  see  no  more.    Through  the  valley  yonder 

A  shower  is  passing ;  I  hear  the  thunder 

Mutter  its  curses  in  the  air, 

The  Devil's  own  and  only  prayer  I 

The  dusty  road  is  brown  with  rain, 

And,  speedinj;  on  with  might  and  main, 

Hithcrward  rides  a  gallant  train. 

They  do  not  parley,  they  cannot  wait, 

But  hurry  in  at  the  convent  gate. 

What  a  fair  lady  !  and  beside  her 

What  a  handsome,  graceful,  noble  rider! 

Now  she  gives  him  her  hand  to  alight; 

They  will  beg  a  shelter  for  the  night 


168  THE   GOLDEX   LEGEND. 

I  will  go  down  to  the  corrMor, 

And  try  to  see  that  face  once  more  ; 

It  will  do  for  the  face  of  some  beautiful  Saint, 

Or  for  one  of  the  Maries  I  shall  paint 

Goetoui. 


THE   CLOISTERS. 
The  ABBOT  EBNESTUS  pacing  to  and  fro. 

ABBOT. 

SLOWLY,  slowly  up  the  wall 
Steals  the  sunshine,  steals  the  shade ; 
Evening  damps  begin  to  fall, 
Evening  shadows  are  displayed. 
Round  me,  o'er  me,  everywhere, 
All  the  sky  is  grand  with  clouds, 
And  athwart  the  evening  air 
Wheel  the  swallows  home  in  crowds. 
Shafts  of  sunshine  from  the  west 
Paint  the  dusky  windows  red ; 
Darker  shadows,  deeper  rest, 
Underneath  and  overhead. 
Darker,  darker,  and  more  wan, 
In  my  breast  the  shadows  fall ; 
Upward  steals  the  life  of  man, 
As  the  sunshine  from  the  wall. 
From  the  wall  into  the  sky. 
From  the  roof  along  the  spire  ; 
Ah,  the  souls  of  those  that  die 
Are  but  sunbeams  lifted  higher. 

Enter  PRINCK  HENHT. 

FRIXCK    HK.NKT. 

Christ  is  arisen  ! 

ABBOT. 

Amen  I  he  is  arisen  I 
His  peace  be  with  you ! 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  169 

PKUfCE  HEXRY. 

Here  it  reigns  forever . 

The  peace  of  God,  that  passeth  understanding, 
Reigns  in  these  cloisters  and  these  corridors. 
Are  you  Ernestus,  Abbot  of  the  convent  ? 

ABBOT. 
I  am. 

PRINCE  HEXRY. 

And  I  Prince  Henry  of  Hoheneck, 
Who  crave  your  hospitality  to-night 


You  are  thrice  welcome  to  our  humble  walls. 
You  do  us  honor ;  and  we  shall  requite  it, 
I  fear,  but  poorly,  entertaining  you 
With  Paschal  eggs,  and  our  poor  convent  wine, 
The  remnants  of  our  Easter  holidays. 


PRtN-CE   HEXRY. 

How  fares  it  with  the  holy  monks  of  Hirschau  ? 


How  fares  it  with  the  holy  moi 
Are  all  things  well  with  tLein ' 


All  things  are  welL 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

A  noble  convent!    I  have  known  it  long 

By  the  report  of  travellers.    I  now  see 

Their  commendations  lag  behind  the  truth. 

You  lie  here  in  the  valley  of  the  Najjold 

As  in  a  nest :  and  the  still  river,  gliding 

Along  its  bed,  is  like  an  admonition 

How  all  things  pass.    Your  lands  are  rich  and 

ample, 

And  your  revenues  large.     God's  benediction 
Rests  on  your  convent 


170  THE   GOLDEX   LEGEND. 


By  our  charities 

We  strive  to  merit  it.     Our  Lord  and  Master, 
When  he  departed,  left  us  in  his  will, 
As  our  best  legacy  on  earth,  the  poor  1 
These  we  have  always  with  us ;  had  we  not, 
Our  hearts  would  grow  as  hard  as  are  these  atones. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

If  I  remember  right,  the  Counts  of  Calva 
Founded  your  convent. 

ABBOT. 

Even  as  you  say. 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

And,  if  I  err  not,  it  is  very  old. 

ABBOT. 

Within  these  cloisters  lie  already  buried 
Twelve  holy  Abbots.    Underneath  the  flags 
On  which  we  stand,  the  Abbot  William  lies, 
Of  blessed  memory. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

And  whose  tomb  is  th&t, 
Which  bears  the  brass  escutcheon  ? 


A  benefactor's. 

Conrad,  a  Count  of  Calva,  he  who  stood 
Godfather  to  our  bells. 

PRINCE  HEXRT. 

Your  monks  are  learned 
And  holy  men,  I  trust 


There  are  among  them 
Learned  and  holy  men.    Yet  iu  this  ane 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  171 

We  need  another  Ilihlcbrand,  to  shake 
And  purify  us  like  a  mighty  wind. 
The  world  is  wicked,  and  sometimes  I  wonder 
God  does  not  lose  his  patience  with  it  wholly, 
And  shatter  it  like  glass  !     Even  here,  at  times, 
Within  these  walls,  where  all  should  be  at  peace, 
I  have  my  trials.     Time  has  laid  his  hand 
Upon  my  heart,  gently,  not  smiting  it, 
But  as  a  harper  lays  his  open  palm 
Upon  his  harp,  to  deaden  its  vibrations. 
Ashes  are  on  my  head,  and  on  my  lips 
Sackcloth,  and  in  my  breast  a  heaviness 
And  weariness  of  life,  that  makes  me  ready 
To  say  to  the  dead  Abbots  under  us, 
"  Make  room  for  me ! "     Only  I  see  the  dusk 
Of  evening  twilight  coming,  and  have  not 
Completed  half  my  task  ;  and  so  at  times 
The  thought  of  my  short-comings  in  this  life 
Falls  like  a  shadow  on  the  life  to  come. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

We  must  all  die,  and  not  the  old  alone ; 

The  young  have  no  exemption  from  that  doom. 


Ah,  yes !  the  young  may  die,  but  the  old  must  I 
That  is  the  difference. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

I  have  heard  much  land 
Of  your  transcribers.     Your  Scriptorium 
Is  famous  among  all,  your  manuscripts 
Praised  for  their  beauty  and  their  excellence. 


That  is  indeed  our  boast    If  you  desire  it, 
You  shall  behold  these  treasures.     And  meanwhile 
Bhall  the  Refectorarius  bestow 
Your  horses  and  attendants  for  the  night. 
They  go  in.     TJie  Vesper-ltM  ringt. 


172  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 


THE   CHAPEL. 

Vapert;  after  which  the  mwks  retire,  a  chorister  leading 
an  old  monk  who  w  blind. 

PRINCE  IIEXRT. 

THEY  are  all  pone,  save  one  who  lingers, 
Absorbed  in  deep  and  silent  prayer. 
As  if  his  heart  could  find  no  rest, 
At  times  he  boats  his  heaving  breast 
With  clenched  and  convulsive  finders, 
Then  lifts  them  trembling  in  the  air. 
A  chorister,  with  golden  hair, 
Guides  hithcrward  his  heavy  pace 
Can  it  be  so  ?     Or  does  my  sight 
Deceive  me  in  the  uncertain  light  ? 
Ah  no !     I  recognize  that  face, 
Though  Time  has  touched  it  in  his  flight, 
And  changed  the  auburn  hair  to  white. 
It  is  Count  Hugo  of  the  Ilhinc, 
The  deadliest  foe  of  all  our  race, 
And  hateful  unto  me  and  mine ! 

THE  BLIXD   MONK. 

Who  is  it  that  doth  stand  so  near 
His  whispered  words  I  almost  hear  ? 

PRINCE  HESBT. 

I  am  Prince  Henry  of  Hoheneck, 
And  you,  Count  Hugo  of  the  Rhine  I 
I  know  you,  and  I  see  the  scar, 
The  brand  upon  your  forehead,  shine 
And  redden  like  a  baleful  star ! 

THE  BUND  MONK. 

Count  Hugo  once,  but  now  the  wreck 
Of  what  I  was.     O  Hoheneck ! 
The  passionate  will,  the  pride,  the  wrath 
That  bore  me  headlong  on  mj  oath, 


THK   GOLDEN  LEGEND.  178 

Stumbled  and  staggered  into  fear, 

And  failed  me  in  ray  mad  career, 

As  a  tired  steed  some  evil-doer, 

Alone  upon  a  desolate  moor, 

Bewildered,  lost,  deserted,  blind, 

And  bearing  loud  and  close  bebind 

The  o'ertaking  steps  of  his  pursuer. 

Then  suddenly  from  the  dark  there  came 

A  voice  that  called  me  by  my  name, 

And  said  to  me,  "Kneel  down  and  pray!" 

And  so  my  terror  passed  away, 

Passed  utterly  away  forever. 

Contrition,  penitence,  remorse, 

Came  on  me,  with  o'erwhelming  force ; 

A  hope,  a  longing,  an  endeavour, 

By  days  of  penance  and  nights  of  prayer, 

To  frustrate  and  defeat  despair ! 

Calm,  deep,  and  still  is  now  my  heart, 

With  tranquil  waters  overflowed  ; 

A  lake  whose  unseen  fountains  start, 

Where  once  the  hot  volcano  glowed. 

And  you,  O  Prince  of  Hoheneck ! 

Have  known  me  in  that  earlier  time, 

A  man  of  violence  and  crime, 

Whose  passions  brooked  no  curb  nor  check. 

Behold  me  now,  in  gentler  mood, 

One  of  this  holy  brotherhood. 

Give  me  your  hand  ;  here  let  me  kneel  j 

Make  your  reproaches  sharp  as  steel ; 

Spurn  me,  and  smite  me  on  each  cheek ; 

No  violence  can  harm  the  meek, 

There  is  no  wound  Christ  cannot  heal  1 

Yes ;  lift  your  princely  hand,  and  take 

Revenge,  if 't  is  revenge  you  seek ; 

Then  pardon  me,  for  Jesus'  sake  1 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Arise,  Count  Hugo  !  let  there  be 
No  farther  strife  uor  enmity 


174  THE   GOLDEN   LEOEKD. 

Between  us  twain ;  we  both  have  erred ! 
Too  rash  in  act,  too  wroth  in  word, 
From  the  bepinn'mjr  have  we  stood 
In  fierce,  defiant  attitude, 
Each  thoughtless  of  the  other's  right, 
And  each  reliant  on  his  might. 
But  now  our  souls  are  more  subdued  ; 
The  hand  of  God,  and  not  in  vain, 
Has  touched  us  with  the  fire  of  pain. 
Let  us  kneel  down,  and  side  by  side 
Pray,  till  our  souls  are  purified, 
And  pardon  will  not  be  denied ! 
They  kneel 


THE   REFECTORY. 

GawMum  of  MvnJa  at  midnight.    LUCIFIB  dltgtnttd 
a  Friar. 

FRIAR  PAUL  sings. 
AVE  !  color  vini  clari, 
Dulcis  potus,  non  amari, 
Tua  nos  inebriari 
Digneris  potentia  I 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

Not  BO  much  noise,  my  worthy  freres, 
You  '11  disturb  the  Abbot  at  his  prayers. 

FRIAR  PAUL  sinys. 

O  I  quam  placens  in  colore  I 

O !  quam  frajrrans  in  odore  I 

O !  quam  sapidum  in  ore ! 

Dulce  linguae  vinculum  I 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

I  should  think  your  tongue  had  broken  its  chain  ' 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  175 

FRIAB  PAUL  tinrjl. 

Felix  venter  quern  intrabis  ! 
Felix  guttur  quod  rigabis ! 
Felix  os  quod  tu  lavabis! 
Et  beata  labia  1 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

Peace .  I  say,  peace  ! 

Will  you  never  cease  1 

You  will  rouse  up  the  Abbot,  I  tell  you  again 

FEIAR  JOHN. 

No  danger  !  to-night  he  will  let  us  alone, 

As  I  happen  to  know  he  has  guests  of  his  own. 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

Who  are  they  ? 

FRIAR  JOHN. 

A  German  Prince  and  his  train, 
Who  arrived  here  just  before  the  rain. 
There  is  with  him  a  damsel  fair  to  see, 
As  slender  and  graceful  as  a  reed  1 
When  she  alighted  from  her  steed, 
It  seemed  like  a  blossom  blowu  from  a  tree. 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

None  of  your  pale-faced  girls  for  mel 
None  of  your  damsels  of  high  degree  ! 

FRIAR  JOHN. 

Come,  old  fellow,  drink  down  to  your  peg  1 
But  do  not  drink  any  farther,  I  beg  1 

FRIAR  PAUL  singt. 
In  the  days  of  gold, 
The  days  of  old, 
Crosier  of  wood 
And  bishop  of  gold  ! 


176  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

What  an  infernal  racket  and  riot  I 
Can  you  not  drink  your  wine  in  quiet  ? 
Why  fill  the  convent  with  such  scandals, 
As  if  we  were  so  many  drunken  Vandals  ? 

FRIAR  PAUL  continue*. 
Now  we  have  changed 
That  law  so  pood, 
To  crosier  of  gold 
And  bishop  of  wood ! 

FRIAR  CCTHBERT. 

Well,  then,  since  you  are  in  the  mood 
To  give  your  noisy  humors  vent, 
Sing  and  howl  to  your  heart's  content! 

CHORUS  OF  MONKS. 

Funde  vinum,  funde  1 
Tanquam  sint  fluminis  undae, 
Nee  quaeras  unde, 
Sed  fundas  semper  abunde  I 

FRIAR  JOHN. 

What  is  the  name  of  yonder  friar, 
With  an  eye  that  glows  like  a  coal  of  fire, 
And  such  a  black  mass  of  tangled  hair  ? 

FRIAR  PAUL. 

He  who  is  sitting  there, 

With  a  rollicking, 

Devil  may  care, 

Free  and  easy  look  and  air, 

As  if  he  were  used  to  such  feasting  and  frolicking  ? 

FRIAR  JOHJT. 
The  same. 

FRIAR  PAUL. 

He  *s  a  stranger.     You  had  better  ask  his  name, 
And  where  he  is  going,  and  whence  he  came. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  177 

FIUAB  JOHN. 

Hallo !  Sir  Friar ! 

FRIAR  PAUL. 

You  must  raise  your  voice  a  little  higher, 
He  does  not  seem  to  hear  what  you  say. 
Now,  try  again  1  lie  is  looking  thia  way. 

FRIAR  JOBS. 

Hallo!  Sir  Friar, 

We  wish  to  inquire 

Whence  you  came,  and  where  you  are  going, 

And  anything  else  that  is  worth  the  knowing. 

So  be  so  good  as  to  open  your  head. 

LUCIFER. 

I  am  a  Frenchman  born  and  bred, 

Going  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome. 

My  home 

Is  the  convent  of  St.  Gildas  de  Rhuys, 

Of  which,  very  like,  you  never  have  heard. 


Never  a  word  1 

LUCIFER, 

You  must  know,  then,  it  is  in  the  diocese 

Called  the  Diocese  of  Vannes, 

In  the  province  of  Brittany. 

From  the  gray  rocks  of  Morbihan 

It  overlooks  the  angry  sea ; 

The  very  sea-shore  where, 

In  his  great  despair, 

Abbot  Abelard  walked  to  and  fro, 

Filling  the  night  with  woe, 

And  wailing  aloud  to  the  merciless  seas 

The  name  of  his  sweet  lleloise  I 

Whilst  overhead 

The  convent  windows  gleamed  as  red 

As  the  fiery  eyes  of  the  monks  within, 

VOL.   II.  12 


178  THE   GOLDEN   JUEGEXD. 

Who  with  jovial  din 

Gave  themselves  up  to  all  kinds  of  sin  I 

Ha  !  tliat  is  a  convent  I  that  is  an  abbey  ! 

Over  the  doors, 

None  of  your  death-heads  carved  in  wood, 

None  of  your  Saints  looking  pious  ami  good, 

None  of  your  Patriarchs  old  and  shabby  ' 

But  the  heads  and  tusks  of  boars, 

And  the  cells 

Hung  all  round  with  the  fells 

Of  the  fallow-deer. 

And  then  what  cheer! 

What  jolly,  fat  friars, 

Sitting  round  the  great,  roaring  fires, 

Soaring  louder  than  they, 

With  their  strong  wines, 

And  their  concubines, 

Anil  never  a  bell, 

With  its  swagger  and  swell, 

Calling  you  up  with  a  start  of  afTrigt* 

In  the  dead  of  night, 

To  send  you  grumbling  down  dark  stairs, 

To  mumble  your  prayers. 

But  the  cheery  crow 

Of  cocks  in  the  yard  below, 

After  daybreak,  an  hour  or  so, 

And  the  barking  of  deep-mouthed  houndi* 

These  are  the  sounds 

That,  instead  of  bells,  salute  the  ear. 

And  then  all  day 

Up  and  away 

Through  the  forest,  hunting  the  deer! 

Ah,  my  friends  !     I  'in  afraid  that  here 

You  arc  a  little  too  pious,  a  little  too  tame, 

And  the  more  is  the  shaine. 

T  is  the  greatest  folly 

Not  to  be  jolly ; 

That  s  what  I  think  1 

Come,  drink,  drink, 

Drink,  and  die  game  I 


THE  GOLDEX  LEGEND.         .79 
MONKS. 

Ami  your  Abbot  Wliat's-liis-name  ? 

LUCIFER. 

Abelard ! 

MONK3. 

Did  lie  drink  hard  ? 

LUCIFER. 

O,no!    Not  he! 

lie  was  a  dry  old  fellow, 

Without  juice  enough  to  get  thoroughly  mellow 

There  he  stood, 

Lowering  at  us  in  sullen  mood, 

As  if  he  had  come  into  Brittany 

Just  to  reform  our  brotherhood  I 

A  roar  of  laughter. 
But  you  see 
It  never  would  do ! 
For  some  of  us  knew  a  thing  or  two, 
In  the  Abbey  of  St.  Gildas  de  Rhuys  1 
For  instance,  the  great  ado 
With  old  Fulbert's  niece, 
The  young  and  lovely  Heloise  1 

FRIAR  JOHN. 

Stop  there,  if  you  please, 

Till  we  drink  to  the  fair  Heloise. 

ALL,  drinking  and  shouting. 
Heloise  I  Heloise ! 

The  Chapd-beU  toUs. 

LCCIFEK,  starting. 

What  is  that  bell  for  ?     Are  you  such  asses 
As  to  keep  up  the  fashion  of  midnight  masses  ? 

FRIAR  CUTIIBERT. 

It  is  only  a  poor,  unfortunate  brother, 
Who  is  gifted  with  most  miraculous  powers 


180*  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Of  getting  up  at  all  sorts  of  hour?, 

And,  by  way  of  penance  and  Christian  meekness, 

Of  creeping  silently  out  of  his  cell 

To  taku  a  pull  at  that  hideous  bell ; 

So  that  all  the  monks  who  are  lying  awake 

Way  murmur  some  kind  of  prayer  for  Lis  sake, 

And  adapted  to  bis  peculiar  weakness  1 

FRIAB  JOHN. 

From  frailty  and  fall— 

ALL. 

Good  Lord,  deliver  us  all  1 

FKTAB  CCTTinERT. 

And  before  the  bell  for  matins  sounds, 

lie  tikes  bis  lantern,  and  goes  tbe  rounds, 

Flashing  it  into  our  sleepy  eyes, 

Merely  to  say  it  is  time  to  arise. 

But  enough  of  that.     Go  on.  if  you  please, 

With  your  story  about  Si-  Gildas  de  llhuya. 


Well,  it  finally  came  to  pass 

That,  half  in  fun  and  ball'  in  malice, 

One  Sunday  at  Mass 

We  put  some  poison  into  the  chahco. 

But,  either  by  accident  or  design, 

Peter  Abclard  kept  away 

From  the  cha]>cl  that  day, 

And  a  poor,  young  friar,  who  in  his  stead 

Drank  the  sacramental  wine, 

Fell  on  the  steps  of  the  altar,  dead  1 

But  look  !  do  you  see  at  the  window  there 

That  face,  with  a  look  of  »rii-f  and  despair, 

That  ghastly  face,  as  of  one  in  pain  V 


Who?  where? 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  181 


As  I  spoke,  it  vanished  away  again. 

FKIAR  CUTHBERT. 

It  ia  (hat  nefarious 

Sicbald  the  Kefectorarius. 

That  fellow  is  always  playing  the  scout, 

Creeping  and  peeping  and  prowling  about; 

And  then  he  regales 

The  Abbot  with  scandalous  talcs. 

LUCIFER. 

A  spy  in  the  convent  ?     One  of  the  brothers 
Telling  scandalous  tales  of  the  others? 
Out  upon  him,  the  lazy  loon! 
I  would  put  a  stop  to  that  pretty  soon, 
In  a  way  he  should  rue  it. 

MONKS. 
How  shall  we  do  it? 


Do  you,  brother  Paul, 

Creep  under  the  window,  close  to  the  wall, 

And  open  it  suddenly  when  I  call. 

Then  seize  the  villain  by  the  hair, 

And  hold  him  there, 

And  punish  him  soundly,  once  for  all. 

FRIAR  CCTHBEHT. 

As  St.  Dunstanofold, 

We  are  told, 

Once  caught  the  Devil  by  the  nose  I 

LUCIFER. 

[Ta  !  ha  !  that  story  is  very  clever, 
But  has  no  foundation  whatsoever. 
Quick  !  for  I  see  his  face  again 
Glaring  in  at  the  window-pane  ; 
Now  1  now !  ouU  do  not  spare  your  blowa 


182  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

FRIAR  PAUL  opent  the  window  twMtnly,  and  seizei  SiKBALD 

Tltey  btut  him. 

FKIAIt   SIEUALD. 

Help  I  help !  are  you  going  to  slay  me  ? 

FKIAR  PAUL. 

That  will  teach  you  again  to  betray  me  1 

Fl'.lAK  BTKnAU>. 

Mercy!  mercy  1 

FRIAR  PACL,  shouting  and  beating. 
Rumpas  bellorum  lorum, 
Vim  confer  amorum 
Morum  verorum  rorum 
Tu  plena  polorum ! 

LUCIFER. 

Who  stands  in  the  doorway  yonder, 
Stretching  out  his  trembling  hand, 
Just  as  Abclard  used  to  stand, 
The  flash  of  his  keen,  black  eyes 
Forerunning  the  thunder  ? 

THE  MONKS,  in  confusion. 
The  Abbot!  the  Abbot! 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

And  what  is  the  wonder  I 
He  seems  to  have  taken  you  by  surprise. 

FRIAR  FRAXCIS. 

Hide  the  great  flagon 

From  the  eyes  of  the  dragon  ! 

FRIAR  CUT1IDERT. 

Pull  the  brown  hood  over  your  face  ! 
This  will  bring  us  into  disgrace  1 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  18S 

ABBOT. 

What  means  this  revel  and  carcusc  ? 

Is  this  a  tavern  and  drinkiug-hoase  ? 

Arc  you  Christian  monks,  or  heathen  devils, 

To  pollute  this  convent  with  your  revels  ? 

Were  Peter  Dainiau  still  upon  earth, 

To  be  shocked  by  such  ungodly  mirth, 

He  would  write  your  names,  with  pen  of  gall, 

In  his  Book  of  Gomorrah,  one  and  all  1 

Away,  you  drunkards !  to  your  cells, 

And  pray  till  you  hear  the  matin-bells; 

You,  Brother  Francis,  and  you,  Brother  Paul! 

And  as  a  penance  mark  each  prayer 

With  the  scourge  upon  youi  shoulders  bare ; 

Nothing  atones  ibr  such  a  sin 

But  the  blood  that  follows  the  discipline. 

And  you,  Brother  Cuthbert,  come  with  me 

Alone  into  the  sacristy  ; 

You,  who  should  be  a  guide  to  your  brothers, 

And  are  ten  times  worse  than  all  the  others, 

For  you  I  've  a  draught  that  has  long  been  brewing, 

You  shall  do  a  penance  worth  the  doing ! 

Away  to  your  prayers,  then,  one  and  all  I 

I  wonder  the  very  convent  wall 

Does  not  crumble  and  crush  you  in  its  fall  I 


THE  NEIGHBOURING  NUNNERY. 

Tht  ABBESS  LKMIXOARD  sittiny  with  ELSIE  in  the  moo* 
liyht. 

IRMLXOARD. 

THE  night  is  silent,  the  wind  is  still, 

The  moon  is  looking  1'rom  yonder  hill 

Down  upon  convent,  and  grove,  and  garden; 

The  clouds  have  passed  away  from  her  lace, 

Leaving  behind  them  no  sorrowful  trace, 

Only  the  tender  and  quiet  grace 

Of  one,  whose  heart  has  been  healed  with  pardon 


184  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

And  such  am  I.    My  soul  within 

Was  dark  with  pa^ion  and  soiled  with  sin. 

But  now  its  wounds  are  healed  again  ; 

Gone  arc  the  anguish,  the  terror,  and  pain  ; 

For  across  that  desolate  land  of  woe, 

O'er  whose  burning  sands  I  was  forced  to  go, 

A  wind  from  heaven  began  to  blow  ; 

And  all  iny  being  trembled  and  shook, 

As  the  leaves  of  the  tree,  or  the  grass  of  the  Geld, 

And  I  was  healed,  as  the  sick  are  healed, 

When  fanned  by  the  leaves  of  the  Holy  Botk ! 

As  thou  sittest  in  the  moonlight  there, 

Its  glory  Hooding  thy  golden  hair, 

And  the  only  darkness  that  which  lies 

In  the  haunted  chambers  of  thine  eyes, 

I  feel  my  soul  drawn  unto  thee, 

Strangely,  and  strongly,  and  more  and  more, 

As  to  one  I  have  known  and  loved  before ; 

For  every  soul  is  akin  to  me 

That  dwells  in  the  land  of  mystery  1 

I  am  the  Lady  Irininganl, 

Born  of  a  noble  race  and  name ! 

Many  a  wandering  Suabian  bard, 

Whose  life  was  dreary,  and  bleak,  and  hard, 

Has  found  through  me  the  way  to  fame. 

Brief  and  bright  were  those  days,  and  the  night 

Winch  followed  was  full  of  a  lurid  light. 

Love,  that  of  every  woman's  heart 

Will  have  the  whole  and  not  a  part, 

That  is  to  her,  in  Nature's  plan, 

More  than  ambition  is  to  man, 

Her  light,  her  life,  her  very  breath, 

With  no  alternative  but  death, 

Found  me  a  maiden  soft  and  young 

Just  from  the  convent's  cloistered  school, 

And  seated  on  my  lowly  stool, 

Attentive  while  the  uiiustreld  sung. 


THE   GOLDEX   LEGE3TD  185 

Gallant,  graceful,  gentle,  tall, 

Fairest,  noblest,  best  of  all, 

Was  Walter  of  the  Vogelwcid; 

And,  whatsoever  may  betide, 

Still  I  think  of  him  with  pride! 

His  song  was  of  the  summer-time, 

The  very  birds  sang  in  his  rhyme; 

The  sunshine,  the  delicious  air, 

The  fragrance  of  the  flowers,  were  there 

And  I  grew  restless  as  I  heard, 

Restless  and  buoyant  as  a  bird, 

Down  soft,  aerial  currents  sailing, 

O'er  blossomed  orchards,  and  fields  in  bloom. 

And  through  the  momentary  gloom 

Of  shadows  o'er  the  landscape  trailing, 

Yielding  and  borne  I  knew  not  where, 

But  feeling  resistance  unavailing. 

And  thus,  unnoticed  and  apart, 
And  more  by  accident  than  choice, 
I  listened  to  that  single  voice 
Until  the  chambers  of  my  heart 
Were  filled  with  it  by  night  and  day. 
One  night, — it  was  a  night  in  May, — 
Within  the  garden,  unawares, 
Under  the  blossoms  in  the  gloom, 
I  heard  it  utter  my  own  name 
With  protestations  and  wild  prayers ; 
And  it  rang  through  me,  and  became 
Like  the  archangel's  trump  of  doom, 
Which  the  soul  hears,  and  must  obey ; 
And  mine  arose  as  from  a  tomb. 
My  former  life  now  seemed  to  me 
Such  as  hereafter  death  may  be, 
When  in  the  great  Eternity 
We  shall  awake  and  find  it  day. 

It  was  a  dream,  and  would  not  stay  ; 
A  dream,  that  in  a  single  night 


186  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Faded  and  vanished  out  of  si^ht 
My  father's  anger  followed  last 
This  passion,  as  a  freshening  blast 
Seeks  out  and  fans  the  lire,  whose  rage 
It  may  increase,  but  not  assuage. 
And  he  exclaimed :  "  No  wandering  bard 
Shall  win  thy  hand,  O  Imiingard! 
For  which  Prince  Henry  of  lloheneck 
By  messenger  and  letter  sues." 

Gently,  but  firmly,  I  replied : 

"  Henry  of  Ilohcncck  1  discard  1 

Never  the  hand  of  Irmingard 

Shall  lie  in  his  as  the  hand  of  a  bride  I" 

This  said  I,  Walter,  for  thy  sake ; 

This  said  I,  for  I  could  not  choose. 

After  a  pause,  my  father  spake 

In  that  cold  and  deliberate  tone 

Which  turns  the  hearer  into  stone, 

And  seems  itself  the  act  to  be 

That  follows  with  such  dread  certainty ; 

"  This,  or  the  cloister  and  the  veil ! " 

No  other  words  than  these  he  said, 

But  they  were  like  a  funeral  wail ; 

My  life  was  ended,  my  heart  was  dead. 

That  night  from  the  castle-gate  went  down, 

With  silent,  slow,  and  stealthy  pace, 

Two  shadows,  mounted  on  shadowy  steeds, 

Taking  the  narrow  path  that  leads 

Into  the  forest  dense  and  brown. 

In  the  leafy  darkness  of  the  place, 

One  could  not  distinguish  form  nor  face, 

Only  a  bulk  without  a  shape, 

A  darker  shadow  in  the  shade ; 

One  scarce  could  say  it  moved  or  stayed. 

Thus  it  was  we  made  our  escape  ! 

A  foaming  brook,  with  many  a  bound, 

Followed  us  like  a  playful  hound; 


THE   GOLDEX    LEGEXD.  187 

TKcn  leaped  before  us,  and  in  the  hollow 
Paused,  and  waited  for  us  to  follow, 
And  seemed  impatient,  and  afraid 
That  our  tardy  flight  should  be  betrayed 
By  the  sound  our  horses'  hoof-beats  made. 

And  when  we  reached 'the  plain  below, 
We  paused  a  moment  and  drew  rein 
To  look  back  at  the  castle  again ; 
And  we  saw  the  windows  all  aglow 
With  lights,  that  were  passing  to  and  fro  j 
Our  hearts  with  terror  ceased  to  beat ; 
The  brook  crept  silent  to  our  feet ; 
We  knew  what  most  we  feared  to  know. 
Then  suddenly  horns  began  to  blow ; 
And  we  heard  a  shout,  and  a  heavy  tramp, 
And  our  horses  snorted  in  the  damp 
Night-air  of  the  meadows  green  and  wide, 
And  in  a  moment,  side  by  side, 
So  close,  they  must  have  seemed  but  one, 
The  shadows  across  the  moonlight  run, 
And  another  came,  and  swept  behind, 
Like  the  shadow  of  clouds  before  the  wind  ! 

How  I  remember  that  breathless  flight 
Across  the  moors,  in  the  summer  night ! 
How  under  our  feet  the  long,  white  road 
Backward  like  a  river  flowed, 
Sweeping  with  it  fences  and  hedges, 
Whilst  farther  away,  and  overhead, 
Paler  than  I,  with  fear  and  dread, 
The  moon  (led  with  us,  as  we  fled 
Along  the  forest's  jagged  edges  1 

All  this  I  can  remember  well ; 

But  of  what  afterwards  befell 

I  nothing  farther  can  recall 

Than  a  blind,  desperate,  headlong  fall ; 

The  rest  is  a  blank  and  darkness  all 


188  THE   GOLDE2T   LEGEXT>. 

When  I  awoke  out  of  tliis  swoon, 

The  stiu  was  shiniii<_',  not  the  moon, 

Making  a  cross  upon  tlic  wall 

With  tlic  bars  of  my  windows  narrow  and  tall; 

And  I  prayed  to  it,  as  I  had  boon  wont  to  praj, 

From  early  childhood,  day  by  day, 

Each  morning,  as  in  bed  I  lay ! 

I  was  lying  again  in  my  own  room  I 

And  I  thanked  God,  in  my  fever  and  pain, 

That  those  shadows  on  the  midnight  plain 

Were  gone,  and  could  not  come  again  1 

I  struggled  no  longer  with  my  doom  I 

This  happened  many  years  ago. 
J  left  my  father's  home  to  come 
Like  Catherine  to  her  martyrdom, 
For  blindly  I  esteemed  it  so. 
And  when  I  heard  the  convent  door 
Behind  me  close,  to  ope  no  more, 
I  felt  it  smite  me  like  a  blow. 
Through  all  my  limbs  a  shudder  ran, 
And  on  my  bruised  spirit  fell 
The  dampness  of  uiy  narrow  cell 
As  night-air  on  a  wounded  man, 
Giving  intolerable  pain. 

But  now  a  better  life  began. 

I  felt  the  agony  decrease 

By  slow  degrees,  then  wholly  cease, 

Ending  in  perfect  rest  and  j>cace  1 

It  was  not  apathy,  nor  dulncss, 

That  wcighe'd  and  pressed  upon  my  brain, 

But  the  same  passion  I  had  given 

To  earth  before,  now  turned  to  heaven 

With  all  its  overflowing  fulness. 

Alas  !  the  world  is  full  of  peril  I 

The  path  that  runs  through  the  fairest  meads, 

On  the  sunniest  side  of  tlic  valley,  leada 


TUB   GOLDEN   LEGEXD. 

Into  a  region  bleak  and  sterile  1 
Alike  in  the  high-born  and  the  lowly, 
The  will  is  feeble,  and  passion  strong. 
We  cannot  sever  right  from  wrong; 
Some  falsehood  mingles  with  all  truth; 
Nor  is  it  strange  the  heart  of  youth 
Should  waver  and  comprehend  but  slowly 
The  things  that  are  holy  and  unholy ! 
13ut  in  this  sacred  and  calm  retreat, 
We  are  all  well  and  safely  shielded 
From  winds  that  blow,  aiid  waves  that  beat, 
From  the  cold,  and  rain,  and  blighting  heat, 
To  which  the  strongest  hearts  have  yielded. 
Here  we  stand  as  the  Virgins  Seven, 
For  our  celestial  bridegroom  yearning ; 
Our  hearts  are  lamps  forever  burning, 
With  a  steady  and  unwavering  llauic, 
Pointing  upward,  Ibrcver  the  same, 
Steadily  upward  toward  the  Heaven  1 

The  moon  is  hidden  behind  a  cloud ; 

A  sudden  darkness  fills  the  room, 

And  thy  deep  eyes,  amid  the  gloom, 

Shine  like  jewels  in  a  shroud. 

On  the  leaves  is  a  sound  of  falling  rain ; 

A  bird,  awakened  in  its  nest, 

Gives  a  faint  twitter  of  unrest, 

Then  smoothes  its  plumes  and  sleeps  again. 

No  other  sounds  than  these  1  hear  ; 

The  hour  of  midnight  must  be  near. 

Thou  art  o'erspent  with  the  day's  fatigue 

Of  riding  many  a  dusty  league  ; 

Kink,  then,  gently  to  thy  slumber; 

Me  so  many  cares  em-umber, 

So  many  ghosts,  and  forms  of  fright, 

Have  started  from  their  graves  to-night, 

They  have  driven  sleep  from  mine  eyes  away  : 

I  will  go  down  to  the  chapel  and  pray. 


V. 

A   COVERED   BRIDGE   AT   LUCERNE. 
PRINCE  HENRY. 

GOD'S  blessing  on  the  architects  who  build 
The  bridges  o'er  swift  rivers  and  abysses 
Before  impassable  to  human  feet, 
No  less  than  on  the  builders  of  cathedrals, 
Whose  massive  walls  are  bridges  thrown  across 
The  dark  and  terrible  abyss  of  Death. 
Well  has  the  name  of  Pontifex  been  given 
Unto  the  Church's  head,  as  the  chief  builder 
And  architect  of  the  invisible  bridge 
That  leads  from  earth  to  heaven. 

ELSIE. 

IIow  dark  it  grows 
What  are  these  paintings  on  the  walls  around  ua  ? 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

The  Dance  Macaber  1 


What? 

PRDJCE  HENRY. 

The  Dance  of  Death 
All  that  go  to  and  fro  must  look  upon  it, 
Mindful  of  what  they  shall  be,  while  beneath, 
Among  the  wooden  piles,  the  turbulent  river 
Rushes,  impetuous  as  the  river  of  life, 
With  dimpling  eddies,  ever  given  and  bright, 
Save  where  the  shadow  of  this  bridge  falls  on  it. 

ELSIE. 
O,  yes  I  I  see  it  now  1 

(130) 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  191 

PRINCE   IIEXRT. 

The  grim  musician 

Leads  all  men  through  the  mazes  of  that  dance, 
To  different  sounds  in  different  measures  moving ; 
Sometimes  he  plays  a  lute,  sometimes  a  drum, 
To  tempt  or  terrify. 

ELSIE. 
What  is  tliis  picture  V 

PRINCE  nEXRY. 

It  is  a  young  man  singing  to  a  nun, 
Who  kneels  at  her  devotions,  but  in  kneeling 
Turns  round  to  look  at  him ;  and  Death,  mean- 
while, 
Is  putting  out  the  candles  on  the  altar  ! 

ELSIE. 

Ah,  what  a  pity  't  is  that  she  should  listen 
Unto  such  songs,  when  in  her  orisons 
She  might  have    heard    in    heaven  the    angels 
singing ! 

PRIXCE  nENRT. 

Here  he  has  stolen  a  jester's  cap  and  bells, 
And  dances  with  the  Queen. 

ELSIE. 

A  foolish  jest! 

PRINCE  HEXKT. 

And  here  the  heart  of  the  new-wedded  wife, 
Coining  from  church  with  her  beloved  lord, 
lie  startles  with  the  rattle  of  his  drum. 


Ah,  that  is  sad !     And  yet  perhaps  't  is  best 
That  she  should  die,  with  all  the  sunshine  on  her, 


198  THE   GOLDKX   LEGKXD. 

Before  this  affluence  of  golden  light 
Shall  fade  into  a  cold  and  clouded  gray, 
Then  into  darkness ! 

FRINGE  HENRY. 

Under  it  is  written, 
'* Nothing  but  death  shall  separate  thec  and  me!" 

ELSIE. 

And  what  la  this,  that  follows  close  upon  it  ? 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Death,  playing  on  a  dulcimer.     Behind  him, 

A  poor  old  woman,  with  a  rosary, 

Follows  the  sound,  and  seems  to  wish  her  feet 

Were  swifter  to  o'crtakc  him.     Underneath, 

The  inscription  reads,  "  Better  is  Death  than  Life." 


Better  is  Death  than  Life  !    Ah  yes !  to  thousand! 

Death  plays  upon  a  dulcimer,  and  sings 

That  song  of  consolation,  till  the  air 

Rings  with  it,  and  they  cannot  choose  but  follow 

Whither  he  leads.     And  not  the  old  alone, 

But  the  young  also  hear  it,  and  are  still. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Yes,  in  their  sadder  moments.     'T  is  the  sound 
Of  their  own  hearts  they  hear,  half  full  of  tears, 
Which  are  like  crystal  cups,  half  filled  with  water 
Responding  to  the  pressure  of  a  finger 
With  music  sweet  and  low  and  melancholy. 
Let  us  go  forward,  and  no  longer  stay 
In  this  great  picture-gallery  of  Death ! 
I  hate  it!  ay,  the  very  thought  of  itl 


Why  b  it  hateful  to  you  ? 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  193 


PRINCE  HENRY. 

For  the  reason 

That  life,  and  all  that  speaks  of  life,  is  lovely, 
And  death,  and  all  that  speaks  of  death,  is  hateful 


The  grave  itself  is  but  a  covered  bridge, 
Leading  from  light  to  light,  through  a  brief  darkness 

PRINCE  HENRY,  emerging  from  tlie  bridge. 
I  breathe  again  more  freely  !     Ah,  how  pleasant 
To  come  once  more  into  the  light  of  day, 
Out  of  that  shadow  of  death  !     To  hear  again 
The  hoof-beats  of  our  horses  on  firm  ground, 
And  not  upon  those  hollow  planks,  resounding 
With  a  sepulchral  echo,  like  the  clods 
On  coffins  in  a  churchyard  !     Yonder  lies 
The  Lake  of  the  Four  Forest-Towns,  apparelled 
In  light,  and  lingering,  like  a  village  maiden, 
Hid  in  the  bosom  of  her  native  mountains, 
Then  pouring  all  her  life  into  another's, 
Changing  her  name  and  being  1     Overhead, 
Shaking  his  cloudy  tresses  loose  in  air, 
Rises  Pilatus,  with  his  windy  pines. 
They  pass  on. 


THE   DEVIL'S   BRIDGE. 
PBDJCE  HENRY  and  ELSIE  crossing,  with  attendant* 

GUIDE. 

THIS  bridge  is  called  the  Devil's  Bridge. 
With  a  single  arch,  from  ridge  to  ridge, 
It  leaps  across  the  terrible  chasm 
Yawning  beneath  us,  black  and  deep, 
As  if,  in  some  convulsive  spasm, 
The  summits  of  the  hills  had  cracked, 

VOL.   II  13 


194  THE  GOLDEN   LEGEIO* 

And  made  a  road  for  the  cataract, 
That  raves  and  rages  down  the  steep ! 

LUCIFER,  under  the  britlgt. 
Ha !  ha  1 

GUIDE. 

Never  any  bridge  but  this 

Could  stand  across  the  wild  abyss; 

All  the  rest,  of  wood  or  stone, 

Bv  the  Devil's  hand  were  overthrown. 

He  toppled  crags  from  the  precipice, 

And  whatsoe'er  was  built  by  day 

In  the  night  was  swept  away  ; 

None  could  stand  but  this  alone. 

LUCIFER,  under  the  bridge. 
Ha!  ha! 

GUIDE. 

I  showed  you  in  the  valley  a  boulder 
Marked  with  the  imprint  of  his  shoulder  \ 
As  he  was  bearing  it  up  this  way, 
A  peasant,  passing,  cried,  "  Herr  J6  ! " 
And  the  Devil  dropped  it  in  his  fright^ 
And  vanished  suddenly  out  of  sight  I 

LUCIFER,  under  the  bridge 
Ha !  ha  1 

GUIDK. 

Abbot  Giraldus  of  Einsiedel, 

For  pilgrims  on  their  way  to  Rome, 

Built  this  at  last,  with  a  single  arch, 

Under  which,  on  its  endless  march, 

Runs  the  river,  white  with  foam, 

Like  a  thread  through  the  eye  of  a  needle 

And  the  Devil  promised  to  let  it  stand, 

Under  compact  and  condition 

That  the  first  living  thing  which  crossed 

Should  be  surrendered  into  his  hand, 

And  be  beyond  redemption  lost. 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEND.  195 


LUCIFER,  tinder  die  bridge. 
Ha !  ha  1  perdition  1 


At  length,  the  bridge  being  all  completed, 
The  Abbot,  standing  at  its  head, 
Threw  across  it  a  loaf  of  bread, 
Which  a  hungry  dog  sprang  after, 
And  the  rocks  reechoed  with  peals  of  laughter 
To  see  the  Devil  thus  defeated ! 
They  pass  on. 

LCCIFER,  under  the  bridge. 
Ha  1  ha  1  defeated  ! 
For  journeys  and  for  crimes  like  this 
I  let  the  bridge  stand  o'er  the  abyss  1 

THE   ST.  GOTHARD   PASS. 
PRINCE  HENRY. 

THIS  is  the  highest  point.    Two  ways  the  rivers 
Leap  down  to  different  seas,  and  as  they  roll 
Grow  deep  and  still,  and  their  majestic  presence 
Becomes  a  benefaction  to  the  towns 
They  visit,  wandering  silently  among  them, 
Like  patriarchs  old  among  their  shining  tents. 

ELSIE. 

How  bleak  and  bare  it  is  1    Nothing  but  mosses 
Grow  on  these  rocks. 

PEIXCE  MESRT. 

Yet  arc  they  not  forgotten  ; 
Beneficent  Nature  sends  the  mists  to  feed  them. 

ELSIE, 

See  yonder  little  cloud,  that,  borne  aloft 
So  tenderly  by  the  wind,  floats  fast  away 


196  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Over  the  snowy  peaks  !    It  seems  to  me 
The  body  of  St.  Catherine,  borne  by  angels  I 

TRIXCE  uExr.Y. 

Thou  art  St.  Catherine,  and  invisible  anjjels 
Bear  thee  across  these  chasms  and  precipices, 
Lest  thou  shouldst  dash  thy  feet  against  a  stone , 


Would  I  were  borne  unto  my  prave,  as  she  was, 
Upon  angelic  shoulders!     Even  now 
I  seem  uplifted  by  them,  light  as  air  1 
What  sound  is  that  ? 

mixes  ITEXRY. 
The  tumbling  avalanches! 

ELSIE. 
How  awful,  yet  how  beautiful ! 

PRIXCE  IIEXRY. 

These  are 
The  voices  of  the  mountains  I     Tims  they  ope 


i  they  op( 
:h  other, 


Their  snowy  lips,  and  speak  unto  each 
In  the  primeval  language,  lost  to  man. 

ELSIE. 
What  land  is  this  that  spreads  itself  beneath  us  I 

PEESCE  1IEXEY. 

Italy!    Italy! 

ELSIE. 

Land  of  the  Madonna  I 
How  beautiful  it  is  1  It  seems  a  garden 
Of  Paradise  1 

PRIXCE   mCXHY. 

Nay,  of  Gethsemane 
To  thec  and  me,  of  passion  and  of  prayer ! 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  If 

Yet  once  of  Paradise.     Long  years  ago 
]  wandered  as  a  youth  among  its  bowers, 
And  never  from  my  heart  has  faded  quite 
Its  memory,  that,  like  a  summer  sunset, 
Encircles  with  a  ring  of  purple  light 
All  the  horizon  of  my  youth. 


O  friends ! 

Tli  a  days  are  short,  the  way  before  us  long ; 
We  must  not  linger,  if  we  think  to  reach 
The  inn  at  Belinzona  before  vespers  ! 


AT   THE   FOOT   OF   THE   ALPS. 

A  halt  under  the  trees  at  noon. 

PRIJfCE  HENRY. 

HERE  let  us  pause  a  moment  in  the  trembling 
Shadow  and  sunshine  of  the  road-side  trees, 
And,  our  tired  horses  in  a  group  assembling, 
Inhale  long  draughts  of  this  delicious  breeze. 
Our  fleeter  steeds  have  distanced  our  attendants, 
They  lag  behind  us  with  a  slower  pace  ; 
We  will  await  them  under  the  green  pendants 
Of  the  great  willows  in  this  shady  place. 
Ho,  Barbarossa  I  how  thy  mottled  haunches 
Sweat  with  this  canter  over  hill  and  glade  1 
Stand  still,  and  let  these  overhanging  branches 
Fan  thy  hot  sides  and  comfort  thee  with  shade ! 


What  a  delightful  landscape  spreads  before  us, 
Marked   with  a  whitewashed    cottage    here  and 

there  I 

And,  in  luxuriant  garlands  drooping  o'er  us, 
Blossoms  of  grape- vines  scent  the  sunny  air. 


198  THE   GOLDEX    LEGEND. 

PRINCE  ITEXItY. 

Hark  1  what  sweet  sounds  are  those,  whose  accenti 

holy 
Fill  the  warm  noon  with  music  sad  and  swpet  1 


It  is  a  band  of  pilgrims,  moving  slowly 

On  their  long  journey,  with  uncovered  feet 

PILGRIMS,  chaunting  the  Hymn  of  St.  Hildtbtrl, 
Me  rcccptet  Sion  ilia, 
Sion  David,  urbs  tranquilla, 
Cujus  faber  auctor  lucis, 
Cujus  portoe  lignum  crucis, 
Cujus  claves  lingua  Petri, 
Cujus  cives  semper  laeti, 
Cujus  muri  lapis  vivus, 
Cujus  custos  Ilex  festivus! 

LUCIFER,  as  a  Friar  in  (he  procession. 
Here  am  I,  too,  in  the  pious  band, 
In  the  garb  of  a  barefooted  Carmelite  dressed  I 
The  soles  of  my  feet  are  as  hard  and  tanned 
As  the  conscience  of  old  Pope  Ilildebrand, 
The  Holy  Satan,  who  made  the  wives 
Of  the  bishops  lead  such  shameful  lives. 
All  day  long  I  beat  my  breast, 
And  chaunt  with  a  most  particular  zest 
The  Latin  hymns,  which  I  understand 
Quite  as  well,  I  think,  as  the  rest 
And  at  night  such  lodging  in  barns  and  sheds, 
Such  a  hurly-burly  in  country  inns, 
Such  a  clatter  of  tongues  in  empty  heads, 
Such  a  helter-skelter  of  prayers  and  sins  ! 
Of  all  the  contrivances  of  the  time 
For  sowing  broadcast  the  seeds  of  crime, 
There  is  none  so  plcasincr  to  me  and  mine 
As  a  pilgrimage  to  some  tar-oil'  shrine  1 


T1IE   GOLDEX   LEGEXD.  19$ 

PRIXCE  HENRY. 

If  from  the  outward  man  we  judge  the  inner 
And  cleanliness  is  godliness,  1  .'car 
A  hopeless  reprobate,  a  hardened  sinner, 
Must  be  that  Carmelite  now  passing  near. 

LUCIFER. 

There  is  my  German  Prince  again, 

Thus  far  on  his  journey  to  Salcrn, 

And  the  lovesick  girl,  whose  heated  brain 

Is  sowing  the  cloud  to  reap  the  rain ; 

But  it 's  a  long  road  that  has  no  turn  I 

Let  them  quietly  hold  their  way, 

I  have  also  a  part  in  the  play. 

But  first  I  must  act  to  my  heart's  content 

This  mummery  and  this  merriment, 

And  drive  this  motley  flock  of  sheep 

Into  the  fold,  where  drink  and  sleep 

The  jolly  old  friars  of  Bcnevent 

Of  a  truth,  it  often  provokes  me  to  laugh 

To  see  these  beggars  hobble  along, 

Lamed  and  maimed,  and  fed  upon  chaff, 

Chanting  their  wonderful  pifF  and  pafT', 

And,  to  make  up  for  not  understanding  the  song, 

Singing  it  fiercely,  and  wild,  and  strong  1 

Were  it  not  for  my  magic  garters  and  staff, 

And  the  goblets  of  goodly  wine  I  quaff, 

And  the  mischief  I  make  in  the  idle  throng, 

I  should  not  continue  the  business  long. 

PILGRIMS,  chaunling. 
In  hac  urbe,  lux  solennis, 
Ver  aeternuin,  pax  pcrennis ; 
In  hac  odor  implcns  caelos, 
In  hue  semper  festuin  melos  I 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Do  you  observe  that  monk  among  the  train, 
Who  pours  from  his  great  throat  the  roaring  ban. 


200  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD. 

As  a  cathedral  spout  pours  out  the  rain, 
And  this  way  turns  his  rubicund,  round  face  ? 


It  is  the  same  who,  on  the  Strasburg  square, 
1'reached  to  the  people  in  the  open  air. 

PRINCE  HEXBY. 

And  he  has  crossed  o'er  mountain,  field,  and  fell, 
On  that  good  steed,  that  seems  to  bear  him  well, 
The  hackney  of  the  Friars  of  Orders  Gray, 
His  own  stout  legs !     He,  too,  was  in  the  play, 
Both  as  King  Herod  and  Ben  Israel. 
Good  morrow,  Friar ! 

FRIAR  CUTITBERT. 

Good  morrow,  noble  Sir  1 

PBIXCE  IIEXRY. 

I  speak  in  German,  for,  unless  I  err, 
You  are  a  German. 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

I  cannot  gainsay  you. 
But  by  what  instinct,  or  what  secret  sign, 
Meeting  me  here,  do  you  straightway  divine 
That  northward  of  the  Alps  my  country  lies  ? 

PRINCE  HEXUY. 

Your  accent,  like  St.  Peter's,  would  betray  you, 
Did  not  your  yellow  beard  and  your  blue  eyes. 
Moreover,  we  have  seen  your  face  before, 
And  heard  you  preach  at  the  Cathedral  door 
On  Easter  Sunday,  in  the  Strasburg  Square. 
We  were  among  the  crowd  that  gathered  there, 
And  saw  you  play  the  llabbi  with  great  skill, 
As  if,  by  leaning  o'er  so  many  years 
To  walk  with  little  children,  your  own  will 
Had  caught  a  childish  attitude  from  theirs. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  201 

A  kind  of  stooping  in  its  form  and  gait, 
And  could  no  longer  stand  erect  and  straight. 
Whence  come  you  now  ? 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

From  the  old  monastery 
Of  Hirschau,  in  the  forest ;  being  sent 
Upon  a  pilgrimage  to  Benevent, 
To  see  the'image  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
That  moves  its  holy  eyes,  and  sometimes  speaka, 
And  lets  the  piteous  tears  run  down  its  checks, 
To  touch  the  hearts  of  the  impenitent. 

PRIXCE  HEXRY. 

O,  had  I  faith,  as  in  the  days  gone  by, 
That  knew  no  doubt,  and  feared  no  mystery ! 

LUCIFER,  at  a  distance. 
Ho,  Cuthbert  I    Friar  Cuthbert  1 

FRIAR  CUTHBERT. 

Farewell  Prince ! 
I  cannot  stay  to  argue  and  convince. 

PRINCE  HEXRT. 

This  is  indeed  the  blessed  Mary's  land, 

Virgin  and  Mother  of  our  dear  Redeemer  ! 

All  hearts  are  touched  and  softened  at  her  name ; 

Alike  the  bandit,  with  the  bloody  hand, 

The  priest,  the  prince,  the  scholar,  and  the  peasant, 

The  man  of  deeds,  the  visionary  dreamer, 

Pay  homage  to  her  as  one  ever  present ! 

And  even  as  children,  who  have  much  offended 

A  too  indulgent  father,  in  great  shame, 

Penitent,  and  yet  not  daring  unattended 

To  go  into  his  presence,  at  the  gate 

Speak  with  their  sister,  and  confiding  wait 

Till  she  goes  in  before  and  intercedes ; 

So  men,  repenting  of  their  evil  deeds, 


202  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

And  yet  not  venturing  rashly  to  draw  near 
With'tht.'ir  requests  an  angry  father's  car, 
OH'cr  to  her  their  prayers  ami  their  confession, 
Ami  she  for  them  in  heaven  makes  intercession. 
And  if  our  Faith  had  pi  ven  us  nothing  more 
Than  this  example  of  all  womanhood, 
So  mild,  so  merciful,  so  strong,  so  good, 
So  patient,  peaceful,  loyal,  loving,  pure, 
This  were  enough  to  prove  it  higher  and  truer 
Than  all  the  creeds  the  world  had  known  before. 


PILGRIMS,  chauntiny  afar  off". 
Urbs  ctclcstis,  urhs  bcata, 
Supra  petram  collocate, 
Urbs  in  portu  satis  tuto 
De  longinquo  tc  saluto, 
Tc  saluto,  te  suspiro, 
Te  alfecto,  te  require ! 


THE   IKN   AT   GENOA. 

A  terrace  overlooking  the  sea. 

PRINCE  IIEXRY. 

IT  is  the  sea,  it  is  the  sea, 
In  all  its  vague  immensity, 
Fading  and  darkening  in  the  distance  I 
Silent,  majcstical,  and  slow, 
The  white  ships  haunt  it  to  and  fro, 
With  all  their  ghostly  sails  unfurled, 
As  phantoms  from  another  world 
Haunt  the  dim  confines  of  existence! 
But  ah  !  how  few  can  comprehend 
Their  signals,  or  to  what  good  end 
From  land  to  land  they  come  and  go! 
Upon  a  sea  more  vast  and  dark 
The  spirits  of  the  dead  embark, 
All  voyaging  to  unknown 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND.  20f 

We  wave  our  farewells  from  the  shore, 
And  they  depart,  and  come  no  more, 
Or  come  as  phantoms  and  as  ghosts. 

Above  the  darksome  sea  of  death 

Looms  the  peat  life  that  is  to  be, 

A  land  of  cloud  and  mystery, 

A  dim  mirage,  with  shapes  of  men 

Long  dead,  and  passed  beyond  our  ken. 

Awe-struck  we  gaze,  and  hold  our  breath 

Till  the  fair  pageant  vanisheth, 

Leaving  us  in  perplexity, 

And  doubtful  whether  it  has  been 

A  vision  of  the  world  unseen, 

Or  a  bright  image  of  our  own 

Against  the  sky  in  vapors  thrown. 

LUCIFER,  singing  from  the  tea. 
Thou  didst  not  make  it,  thou  canst  not  mend  it, 
But  thou  hast  the  power  to  end  it ! 
The  sea  is  silent,  the  sea  is  discreet, 
Deep  it  lies  at  thy  very  feet ; 
There  is  no  confessor  like  unto  Death ! 
Thou  canst  not  see  him,  but  he  is  near; 
Thou  needest  not  whisper  above  thy  breath, 
And  he  will  hear ; 
He  will  answer  the  questions, 
The  vague  surmises  and  suggestions, 
That  fill  thy  soul  with  doubt  and  fear  I 

PIUNCE   IIEXUT. 

The  fisherman,  who  lies  afloat, 
With  shadowy  sail,  in  yonder  boat, 
Is  singing  softly  to  the  Night  1 
But  do  I  comprehend  aright 
The  meaning  of  the  words  he  sung 
So  sweetly  in  his  native  tongue  ? 
Ah,  yes !  the  sea  is  still  and  deep. 
Ail  things  within  its  bosom  sleep  I 


204  THE    GOLDF.X    I.EGENT>. 

A  single  step,  and  all  is  o'er; 
A  plunge,  a  bubble,  and  no  more  ; 
And  thou,  dear  Elsie,  wilt  be  free 
From  martyrdom  and  agony. 

ELSIE,  coming  from  her  chamber  upon  the  terrace, 
The  night  is  calm  and  cloudless, 
And  still  as  still  can  be, 
And  the  stars  come  forth  to  listen 
To  the  music  of  the  sea. 
They  gather,  and  gather,  and  gather, 
Until  they  crowd  the  sky, 
And  listen,  in  breathless  silence, 
To  the  solemn  litany. 
It  begins  in  rocky  caverns, 
As  a  voice  that  chaunts  alone 
To  the  pedals  of  the  organ 
In  monotonous  undertone ; 
And  anon  from  shelving  beaches, 
And  shallow  sands  beyond, 
In  snow-white  robes  uprising 
The  ghostly  choirs  respond. 
And  sadly  and  unceasing 
The  mournful  voice  sings  on, 
And  the  snow-white  choirs  still  answer 
Christe  clcison  1 

ritlXCK  IIENRT. 

Angel  of  God  !  thy  finer  sense  perceives 

Celestial  and  perpetual  harmonics  1 

Thy  purer  soul,  that  trembles  and  believes, 

Hears  the  archangel's  trumpet  in  the  breeze, 

And  where  the  forest  rolls,  or  ocean  heaves, 

Cecilia's  organ  sounding  in  the  seas, 

And  tongues  of  propheLs  speaking  in  the  leaves. 

But  I  hear  discord  only  and  despair. 

And  whispers  as  of  demons  in  the  air  I 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEND.  20d 


THE  wind  upon  our  quarter  lies, 
And  on  before  the  freshening  gale, 
That  (ills  the  snow-white  lateen  sail, 
Swiftly  our  light  felucca  flies. 
Around,  the  billows  burst  and  foam  ; 
They  lift  her  o'er  the  sunken  rock, 
They  beat  her  sides  with  many  a  shock, 
And  then  upon  their  flowing  dome 
They  poise  her,  like  a  weathercock  I 
Between  us  and  the  western  skies 
The  hills  of  Corsica  arise  ; 
Eastward,  in  yonder  long,  blue  line, 
The  summits  of  the  Apcnninc, 
And  southward,  and  still  far  away, 
Salerno,  on  its  sunny  bay. 
You  cannot  sec  it,  where  it  lies. 

PEIXCK  HEXRT. 

Ah,  would  that  never  more  mine  eyes 
Might  sec  its  towers  by  night  or  day ! 


Behind  us,  dark  and  awfully, 
There  comes  a  cloud  out  of  the  sea, 
That  bears  the  form  of  a  hunted  deer, 
With  hide  of  brown,  and  hoofs  of  black, 
And  antlers  laid  upon  its  back, 
And  fleeing  fast  and  wild  with  fear, 
As  if  the  hounds  were  on  its  track  1 

FIIINCB  HEXRT. 

Lo!  while  we  gaze,  it  breaks  and  falla 

In  shapeless  masses,  like  the  walls 

Of  a  burnt  city.     Broad  and  red 

The  fires  of  the  descending  sun 

Glare  through  the  windows,  and  o'erhead, 


206  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXIK 

Athwart  the  vapors,  dense  and  dun, 
Long  shafts  of  silvery  light  arise, 
Like  rafters  that  rapport  the  skies  1 

ELSIE. 

See !  from  its  summit  the  lurid  levin 
Flashes  downward  without  warning, 
As  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning, 
Fell  from  the  battlements  of  heaven  I 

IL  rADF.OXE. 

I  must  entreat  you,  friends,  below  1 

The  angry  storm  begins  to  blow, 

For  the  weather  changes  with  the  moon. 

All  this  morning,  until  noon, 

We  had  baffling  winds,  and  sudden  flaws 

Struck  the  sea  with  their  cat's-paws. 

Only  a  little  hour  ago 

I  was  whistling  to  Saint  Antonio 

For  a  capful  of  wind  to  fill  our  sail, 

And  instead  of  a  breeze  he  has  sent  a  gale. 

Last  night  I  saw  Saint  Elmo's  stars, 

With  their  glimmering  lanterns,  all  at  play 

On  the  tops  of  the  masts  and  the  tips  of  the  span, 

And  I  knew  we  should  have  foul  weather  to-uay. 

Checrly,  my  hearties !  yo  heave  ho ! 

Brail  up  the  mainsail,  and  let  her  go 

As  the  winds  will  and  Saint  Antonio ! 

Do  you  see  that  Livomesc  felucca, 
That  vessel  to  the  windward  yonder, 
Banning  with  her  gunwale  under? 
I  was  looking  when  the  wind  o'ertook  her. 
She  had  all  sail  set,  and  the  only  wonder 
Is,  that  at  once  the  strength  of  the  blast 
Did  not  carry  away  her  mast. 
She  is  a  galley  of  the  Gran  Duca, 
That,  through  the  fear  of  the  Algerinea, 
Convoys  those  lazy  brigantines, 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEXD.  i07 

Laden  "with  wine  and  oil  from  Lucca. 
Now  all  is  ready,  liijrh  and  low; 
Blow,  blow,  good  Saint  Antonio  1 

Ha  !  that  is  the  first  dash  of  the  rain, 
With  a  sprinkle  of  spray  above  the  rails, 
Just  enough  to  moisten  our  sails, 
And  make  them  ready  for  the  strain. 
See  how  she  leaps,  as  the  blasts  o'crtake  her, 
And  speeds  away  with  a  bone  in  her  mouth ! 
Now  keep  her  head  toward  the  south, 
And  there  is  no  danger  of  bank  or  breaker. 
With  the  breeze  behind  us,  on  we  go ; 
Not  too  much,  cood  Saint  Antonio  1 


VI. 

THK   SCHOOL   OF   8ALERXO. 

A  travelling  Sdiolastic  aflixinrj  Ms  TJiesu  to  the  gate  of  tMt 
Cullcye. 

SCHOLASTIC. 

TnETiE,  tliat  is  my  gauntlet,  my  banner,  my  shield, 

Ilur.ir  iq>  as  a  challenge  to  all  the  field! 

One  hundred  and  twenty-five  propositions, 

Which  I  will  maintain  with  the  sword  of  the  tongue 

Against  all  disputants,  old  and  young. 

Let  us  sec  if  doctors  or  dialecticians 

Will  dare  to  dispute  my  definitions, 

Or  attack  any  one  of  my  learned  theses. 

Here  stand  I ;  the  end  shall  be  as  God  pleases. 

I  think  I  have  proved,  by  profound  researches, 

The  error  of  all  those  doctrines  so  vicious 

Of  the  old  Areopagitc  Dionysiu*. 

That    arc    making    such    terrible    work    in    the 

churches, 

By  Michael  the  Stammerer  sent  from  the  East, 
And  done  into  Latin  by  that  Scottish  beast, 
Erigcna  Johannes,  who  dares  to  maintain, 
In  the  face  of  the  truth,  the  error  infernal, 
That  the  universe  is  and  must  be  eternal ; 
At  first  laying  down,  as  a  fact  fundamental, 
That  nothing  with  God  ran  be  accidental ; 
Then  asserting  that  God  before  the  creation 
Could  not  have  existed,  because  it  is  plain 
That,  liad  he  existed,  he  Mould  have  created  ; 
Which   is  begging  the    question   that  should  be 

debated, 

And  movcth  me  less  to  anger  than  laughter. 
All  nature,  he  holds,  is  a  respiration 
Of  the  Spirit  of  God,  who,  iu  breathing,  hereafter 

em 


THE  GOLDEN  IEGEND.  209 

Will  inhale  it  into  his  bosom  again, 

So  that  nothing  but  God  alone  will  remain. 

And  therein  he  contradictcth  himself; 

For  he  opens  the  whole  discussion  by  stating, 

<*rhat  God  can  only  exist  in  creating. 

That  question  I  think  I  have  laid  on  the  shelf  I 

He  goes  out.     Two  Doctors  come  in  disputing,  and  foUoutd 
by  pupils. 

DOCTOR  SERAFLNO. 

I,  with  the  Doctor  Seraphic,  maintain. 

That  a  word  which  is  only  conceived  in  the  brain 

Is  a  type  of  eternal  Generation  ; 

The  spoken  word  is  the  Incarnation. 

DOCTOR  CHERUBINO. 

What  do  I  care  for  the  Doctor  Seraphic, 
With  all  his  wordy  chaffer  and  traffic  ? 

DOCTOR  SERAFINO. 

You  make  but  a  paltry  show  of  resistance ; 
Universals  have  no  real  existence  1 

DOCTOR  CHERUBINO. 

Your  words  are  but  idle  and  empty  chatter; 
Ideas  are  eternally  joined  to  matter ! 

DOCTOR  SERAFINO. 

May  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  your  position, 
You  wretched,  wrangling  culler  of  herbs  1 

DOCTOR  CIIERCBINO. 

May  he  send  your  soul  to  eternal  perdition, 
For  your  Treatise  on  the  Irregular  Verbs  1 

They  rush  outfighting.     Two  Scholars  come  M. 

FIRST  SCHOLAR. 

Monte  Cassino,  then,  is  your  College. 
What  think  you  of  ours  here  at  Salem  ? 
YOL.  H.  14 


210  THE   GOLDEX   LEGEXD. 

SECOND  SCHOLAR. 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  arrived  so  lately, 

I  hardly  yet  have  had  time  to  discern. 

So  much,  at  least,  I  am  bound  to  acknowledge: 

The  air  seems  healthy,  the  buildings  stately, 

And  on  the  whole  I  like  it  greatly. 

FIRST  SCHOLAR. 

Tcs,  the  air  is  sweet ;  the  Calabrian  hills 

Send  us  down  pulls  of  mountain  air ; 

And  in  summer-time  the  sea-breeze  fills 

With  its  coolness  cloister,  and  court,  and  square 

Then  at  every  season  of  the  year 

There  are  crowds  of  guests  and  travellers  here; 

Pilgrims,  and  mendicant  friars,  and  traders 

From  the  Levant,  with  figs  and  wine, 

And  bands  of  wounded  and  sick  Crusaders, 

Coming  back  from  Palestine. 

BECOJfD  SCHOLAR. 

And  what  are  the  studies  you  pursue  ? 
What  ia  the  course  you  here  go  through  ? 

FIRST  SCHOLAR. 

The  first  three  years  of  the  college  course 
Are  given  to  Logic  alone,  as  the  source 
Of  all  that  is  noble,  and  wise,  and  true. 

8ECOXD  SCHOLAR. 

That  seems  rather  strange,  I  must  confess, 
In  a  Medical  School ;  yet,  nevertheless, 
Xou  doubtless  have  reasons  for  that. 

FIRST  SCHOLAR. 

0,ye.» 

For  none  but  a  clever  dialectician 
Can  hope  to  become  a  great  physician; 
That  has  been  settled  long  ago. 
Logic  makes  an  important  part 


THE   GOLDEN    LEGEND.  211 

Of  the  mystery  of  the  healing  art ; 
For  without  it  how  could  you  hope  to  show 
That  nobody  knows  so  much  as  you  know  ? 
After  this  there  are  five  years  more 
Devoted  wholly  to  medicine, 
With  lectures  on  chirurgical  lore, 
And  dissections  of  the  bodies  of  swine, 
As  likest  the  human  form  divine. 

8ECOXD  SCHOLAR. 

What  are  the  books  now  most  in  vogue  ? 

FIKST   SCHOLAR. 

Quite  ar.  extensive  catalogue ; 

Mostly,  however,  books  of  our  own  ; 

As  Gariopontus'  Passion  ari  us, 

And  the  writings  of  Matthew  Platearius; 

And  a  volume  universally  known 

As  the  Regimen  of  the  School  of  Salcrn, 

For  Robert  of  Normandy  written  in  terse 

And  very  elegant  Latin  verse. 

Each  of  these  writings  has  its  turn. 

And  when  at  length  we  have  finished  these, 

Then  comes  the  struggle  for  degrees, 

With  ali  the  oldest  and  ablest  critics ; 

The  public  thesis  and  disputation, 

Question,  and  answer,  and  explanation 

Of  a  passage  out  of  Hippocrates, 

Or  Aristotle's  Analytics. 

There  the  triumphant  Magister  stands  1 

A  book  is  solemnly  placed  in  his  hands, 

Oc  which  he  swears  to  follow  the  rule 

And  ancient  forms  of  the  good  old  School; 

To  report  if  any  confeetionarius 

Mingles  his  drugs  with  matters  various, 

And  to  visit  his  patients  twice  a  day, 

And  once  in  the  night,  if  they  live  in  town, 

And  if  they  are  poor,  to  taJcc  no  pay. 

Having  faithfully  promised  Ckese, 


212  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

His  head  is  crowned  with  a  laurel  crown  ; 

A  kiss  on  his  cheek,  a  ring  on  his  hand, 

The  M-igister  Artimn  et  i'hysices 

Goes  forth  from  the  school  like  a  lord  of  the  land. 

And  now,  as  we  have  the  whole  morning  before 

us, 

Let  us  go  in,  if  you  make  no  objection, 
And  listen  awhile  to  a  learned  prelection 
Ou  Marcus  Aurelius  Cassiodorus. 

They  go  in.    Enter  LUCIFEB  a»  a  Doctor. 

LUCIFER. 

This  is  the  great  School  of  Salern  ! 

A  Land  of  wrangling  and  of  quarrels, 

Of  brains  that  seethe  and  hearts  that  burn, 

Where  every  emulous  scholar  hears, 

In  every  breath  that  comes  to  his  ears, 

The  rustling  of  another's  laurels! 

The  air  of  the  place  is  called  salubrious ; 

The  neighbourhood  of  Vesuvius  lends  it 

An  odor  volcanic,  that  rather  mends  it, 

And  the  buildings  have  an  aspect  lugubrious, 

That  inspires  a  feeling  of  awe  and  terror 

Into  the  heart  of  the  beholder, 

And  befits  such  an  ancient  homestead  of  error, 

Where  the  old  falsehoods  moulder  and  smoulder, 

And  yearly  by  many  hundred  hands 

Are  carried  away,  in  the  zeal  of  youth, 

And  sown  like  tares  in  the  field  of  truth, 

To  blossom  and  ripen  in  other  lands. 

What  have  we  here,  affixed  to  the  gate? 
The  challenge  of  some  scholastic  wight, 
Who  wishes  to  hold  a  public  debate 
On  sundry  questions  Avrong  or  right ! 
Ah,  now  this  is  my  great  delight! 
For  I  have  often  observed  of  late 
That  such  discussions  end  in  a  fight 
Let  us  see  what  the  learned  wag  maintains 
With  such  a  prodigal  waste  of  brains. 


THE   GOLDEN    J.EGEXD.  213 

Reads. 

*  Whether  angels  in  moving  from  place  to  place 
Pass  through  the  intermediate  space. 
Whether  God  himself  is  the  author  of  evil, 
Or  whether  that  is  the  work  of  the  Devil. 
When,  where,  and  wherefore  Lucifer  fell, 
And  whether  he  now  is  chained  in  hell." 

I  think  I  can  answer  that  question  well  I 

So  long  as  the  boastful  human  mind 

Consents  in  such  mills  as  this  to  grind, 

I  sit  very  firmly  upon  my  throne  ' 

Of  a  truth  it  almost  makes  me  laugh, 

To  see  men  leaving  the  golden  grain 

To  gather  in  piles  the  pitiful  chalf 

That  old  Peter  Lombard  thrashed  with  his  brain, 

To  have  it  caught  up  and  tossed  again 

On  the  horns  of  the  Dumb  Ox  of  Cologne ! 

3ut  my  guests  approach  !  there  is  in  the  air 

A  fragrance,  like  that  of  the  Beautiful  Garten 

Of  Paradise,  in  the  days  that  were  ! 

An  odor  of  innocence,  and  of  prayer, 

And  of  love,  and  faith  that  never  fails, 

Such  S3  the  fresh  young  heart  exhales 

Before  it  begins  to  wither  and  harden  I 

I  cannot  breathe  such  an  atmosphere  1 

My  soul  is  filled  with  a  nameless  fear, 

That,  after  all  nay  trouble  and  pain, 

After  all  my  restless  endeavour, 

The  youngest,  fairest  scul  of  the  twain, 

The  moat  ethereal,  mcst  divine, 

Will  escape  from  my  hands  forever  ai»i  ev* 

But  the  other  is  already  mine  1 

Let  him  live  to  corrupt  his  race, 

Breathing  among  them,  with  cvr 

Weakness,  selfishness,  and  the  baso 

And  pusillanimous  fear  of  death. 

t  know  his  nature,  and  I  know 


214  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

That  of  all  who  in  my  ministry 
Wander  the  great  earth  to  and  fro, 
And  on  my  errands  come  and  go, 
The  safest  and  subtlest  are  sueh  as  he. 

Enter  PKIXCE  UENRY  and  ELSIE,  with  attendant* 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

Can  you  direct  us  to  Friar  Angelo  ? 


He  stands  before  you. 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Then  you  know  our  purpoaa 
I  am  Prince  Henry  of  Ilohcncck,  and  this 
The  maiden  that  1  spake  of  in  my  letters. 

LUCIFER. 

It  is  a  very  grave  and  solemn  business ! 
We  must  not  be  precipitate.     Does  she 
Without  compulsion,  of  her  own  free  will, 
Consent  to  this  ? 

PRINCE  IIEXRY. 

Against  all  opposition, 

Against  all  prayers,  entreaties,  protestations. 
She  will  not  be  persuaded. 

LUCIFER. 

That  is  strange ! 
Ilave  you  thought  well  of  it  ? 

ELSIE. 

I  come  not  here 

To  argue,  but  to  die.     Your  business  is  not 
To  question,  but  to  kill  me.     I  am  ready. 
I  atn  impatient  to  be  gone  from  here 
Frc  any  thoughts  of  earth  disturb  again 
The  spirit  of  tranquillity  within  me. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD.  215 

PRIXCK  HENRY. 

Would  I  bad  not  conic  here  !     Would  I  were  dead, 

And  thou  wert  in  thy  cottage  in  the  forest, 

And  hadst  not  known  nufl     Why  have  I  done 

this  ? 
Let  me  go  back  and  die. 


It  cannot  be ; 

Not  if  these  cold,  flat  stones  on  which  we  tread 
Were  coulters  heated  white,  and  yonder  gateway 
Flamed  like  a  furnare  with  a  sevenfold  heat. 
I  must  fuliil  my  purpose. 

PRIXCE  HENRY. 

I  forbid  it ! 

Not  one  step  farther.  For  I  only  meant 
To  put  thus  far  thy  courage  to  the  proof. 
It  is  enough.  I,  too,  have  courage  to  die, 
For  thou  hast  taught  me  ! 


O  my  Prince  !  remember 
Tour  promises.     Let  me  fulfil  my  errand. 
You  do  not  look  on  life  and  death  as  I  do. 
There  are  two  angels,  that  attend  unseen 
Each  one  of  us,  and  in  great  books  record 
Our  good  and  evil  deeds.     He  who  writes  down 
The  good  ones,  after  every  action  closes 
His  volume,  and  ascends  with  it  to  God. 
The  other  keeps  his  dreadful  day-book  open 
Till  sunset,  that  we  may  repent ;  which  doing, 
The  record  of  the  action  fades  away, 
And  leaves  a  line  of  white  across  the  page. 
Now  if  my  act  be  good,  as  I  believe, 
It  cannot  be  recalled.     It  is  already 
Scaled  up  in  heaven,  as  a  good  deed  accomplished 
The  rest  is  yours.     Why  wait  you  ?     I  am  ready. 


216  TUB   GOLD?  f   LEGEND. 

To  her  (Jterulants. 

Weep  not,  my  friends  !  rather  rejoice  with  m£ 
I  shall  not  feel  the  pain,  but  shall  be  gone, 
And  you  will  have  another  friend  in  heaven. 
Then  start  not  at  the  creaking  of  the  door 
Through  which  I  pass.    I  see  what  lies  beyond  iV 

To  PRINCE  HKNI-.Y. 

And  you,  O  Prince  !  bear  back  my  benison 
Unto  my  father's  house,  and  all  within  it 
This  morning  in  the  church  I  prayed  for  them, 
After  confession,  after  absolution, 
When  my  whole  soul  was  white,  I  prayed  for  them. 
God  will  take  care  of  them,  they  need  me  not 
And  in  your  life  let  my  remembrance  linger, 
As  something  not  to  trouble  and  disturb  it, 
But  to  complete  it,  adding  life  to  life. 
And  if  at  times  beside  the  evening  fire 
You  see  my  face  among  the  other  laces, 
Let  it  not  be  regarded  as  a  ghost 
That  haunts  your  house,  but  as  a  guest  that  love* 

you. 

Nay,  even  as  one  of  your  own  family, 
Without  whose  presence  there  were   somethin/j 

wanting. 
I  have  no  more  to  say.    Let  us  go  in. 

PMSCK  HESRT. 

Friar  Angelo  I  I  charge  you  on  your  life, 
Believe  not  what  she  says,  for  she  is  mad, 
And  comes  here  not  to  die,  but  to  be  healed. 

ELSIE. 

Alas  1  Prince  Henry  1 

LUCIFER. 

Come  with  me  ;  this  waj 

ELSIE  gou  in  with  LUCIFER,  tcho  thrusts  PRISCB  HENRI 
back  and  clotts  the  duor. 


THE   GOLDEN   LEGEXD.  217 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Gone  t  and  the  light  of  all  my  life  gone  -with  her  I 
A  sudden  darkness  falls  upon  the  world  ! 
O,  what  a  vile  and  abject  thing  am  I, 
That  purchase  length  of  days  at  such  a  cost ! 
Not  by  her  death  alone,  but  by  the  death 
Of  all  that's  good  and  true  and  noble  in  me  1 
All  manhood,  excellence,  and  self-respect, 
All  love,  and  faith,  and  hope,  and  heart  are  dead  I 
All  my  divine  nobility  of  nature 
By  this  one  act  is  forfeited  forever. 
I  am  a  Prince  in  nothing  but  in  name  I 
To  Hie  attendants, 

Why  did  you  let  this  horrible  deed  be  done  ? 
Why  did  you  not  lay  hold  on  her,  and  keep  her 
From  self-destruction  '?     Angelo  !  murderer  1 
Struggles  at  the  door,  but  cannot  open  it, 

ELSIE  within. 
Farewell,  dear  Prince  !  farewell ! 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

Unbar  the  door  I 

LUCIFEB. 

It  is  too  late ! 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

It  shall  not  be  too  late  I 
They  burst  the  door  open  and  rush  in. 


THE   COTTAGE   IX   THE   ODENWALD. 

UBSULA,  spinning.     Summer  afternoon.    A  table  tpreaeL 

URSULA. 

I  HAVE  marked  it  well, — it  must  be  true, — 
Death  never  takes  one  alone,  but  two  1 


218  THE    GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

Whenever  he  enters  in  at  a  door, 
Under  roof  of  gold  or  roof  of  thatch, 
lie  always  leaves  it  upon  the  latch, 
And  comes  again  ere  the  year  is  o'er. 
Never  one  of  a  household  only  1 
Perhaps  it  is  a  mercy  of  God, 
Lest  the  dead  there  under  the  sod, 
In  the  land  of  strangers,  should  be  lonely  I 
Ah  me  !  I  think  I  am  lonelier  here  ! 
It  is  hard  to  go, — but  harder  to  stay ! 
Were  it  not  lor  the  children,  I  should  pray 
That  Death  would  take  me  within  the  year  I 
And  Gottlieb ! — he  is  at  work  all  day, 
In  the  sunny  field,  or  the  forest  murk, 
But  I  know  that  his  thoughts  are  far  away, 
I  know  that  his  heart  is  not  in  his  work  ! 
And  when  he  comes  home  to  me  at  night 
lie  is  not  cheery,  but  sits  and  sighs, 
And  I  see  the  great  tears  in  his  eyes, 
And  try  to  be  cheerful  for  his  sake. 
Only  the  children's  hearts  are  light. 
Mine  is  weary,  and  ready  to  break. 
God  help  us  !     I  hope  we  have  done  right; 
We  thought  we  were  acting  for  the  best  1 

Looking  Qirouyh  the  open  door. 
Who  is  it  coming  under  the  trees  ? 
A  man,  in  the  Prince's  livery  dressed  ! 
He  looks  about  him  with  doubtful  lace, 
As  if  uncertain  of  the  place. 
He  stops  at  the  beehives  ; — now  he  sees 
The  garden  gate  ; — he  is  going  past  1 
Can  he  be  afraid  of  the  bi-es  '{ 
No;  he  is  coming  in  at  last  ! 
He  fills  my  heart  with  strange  alarm  I 
Enter  a  Furctter. 

FORESTER. 

Is  this  tho  tenant  Gottlieb's  farm? 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEND.  219 

URSULA. 

This  is  bis  farm,  and  I  his  wife. 

Pray  sit.     What  may  your  business  bo  ? 

FORESTER. 

News  from  the  Prince  ! 

URSULA. 

Of  death  or  life? 

FORESTER. 

You  put  your  questions  eagerly  ! 

URSULA. 
Answer  me,  then  !    How  is  the  Prince  ? 

FORESTER. 

I  left  him  only  two  hours  since 
Homeward  returning  down  the  river, 
As  strong  and  well  as  if  God,  the  Giver, 
Had  given  him  back  his  youth  again. 

URSULA,  deppairinff. 

Then  Elsie,  my  poor  child,  is  dead  1 

FORESTER. 

That,  my  good  woman,  I  have  not  said. 
Do  n't  cross  the  bridge  till  you  come  to  it, 
Is  a  proverb  old,  and  of  excellent  wit 


Keep  me  no  longer  in  this  pain  1 

FORESTER. 

It  is  true  your  daughter  is  no  more  ;  — 
That  is,  the  peasant  she  was  before. 


Alas  !  I  am  simple  and  lowly  bred, 
I  am  poor,  distracted,  and  forlorn. 


120  THE   GOLDEN    LEGEND. 

And  it  is  not  well  that  you  of  the  court 
Should  mock  me  thus,  and  make  a  sport 
Of  a  joyless  mother  whose  child  is  dead, 
For  you,  too,  were  of  mother  born  1 

FORESTER. 

Your  daughter  lives,  and  the  Prince  is  well ! 
You  will  learn  ere  long  how  it  all  befell. 
Her  heart  for  a  moment  never  failed ; 
But  when  they  reached  Salerno's  gate, 
The  Prince's  nobler  self  prevailed, 
And  saved  her  for  a  nobler  fate. 
And  he  was  healed,  in  his  despair, 
By  the  touch  of  St  Matthew's  sacred  bones ; 
Though  I  think  the  long  ride  in  the  open  air, 
That  pilgrimage  over  stocks  and  stones, 
In  the  miracle  must  come  in  for  a  share  1 


Virgin  !  who  lovest  the  poor  and  lowly, 

If  the  loud  cry  of  a  mother's  heart 

Can  ever  ascend  to  where  thoti  art, 

Into  thy  blessed  hands  and  holy 

Receive  my  prayer  of  praise  and  thanksgiving. 

Let  the  hands  that  bore  our  Saviour  bear  it 

Into  the  awful  presence  of  God  ; 

For  thy  feet  with  holiness  are  shod, 

And  if  thou  bearest  it  he  will  hear  it 

Our  child  who  was  dead  again  is  living  1 


I  did  not  tell  you  she  was  dead  ; 
If  you  thought  so  't  was  no  fault  of  mine ; 
At  this  very  moment,  while  I  speak, 
They  are  sailing  homeward  down  the  Rhine, 
In  a  splendid  barge,  with  golden  prow, 
And  decked  with  banners  white  and  red 
As  the  colors  on  your  daughter's  cheek. 
They  call  her  the  Lady  Alicia  now  ; 


THE   GOLD  EX   LEGEND.  2?l 

For  the  Prince  in  Salerno  made  a  vow 
That  Elsie  only  would  he  wed. 


Jesu  Maria !  what  a  change ! 

All  seems  to  me  so  weird  and  strange  I 


I  saw  her  standing  on  the  deck, 

Beneath  an  awning  cool  and  shady ; 

Her  cap  of  velvet  could  not  hold 

The  tresses  of  her  hair  of  gold, 

That  flowed  and  floated  like  the  stream, 

And  fell  in  masses  down  her  neck. 

As  fair  and  lovely  did  she  seem 

As  in  a  story  or  a  dream 

Some  beautiful  and  foreign  lady. 

And  the  Prince  looked  so  grand  and  proud, 

And  waved  his  hand  thus  to  the  crowd 

That  gazed  and  shouted  from  the  shore, 

All  down  the  river,  long  and  loud. 


We  shall  behold  our  child  once  more  ; 
She  is  not  dead  !     She  is  not  dead  1 
God,  listening,  must  have  overheard 
The  prayers,  that,  without  sound  or  word, 
Our  hearts  in  secrecy  have  said  1 
O,  bring  me  to  her  ;  for  mine  eyes 
Are  hungry  to  behold  her  face  ; 
M}'  very  soul  within  me  cries  ; 
My  very  hands  seem  to  caress  her, 
To  see  her,  gaze  at  her,  and  bless  her ; 
Dear  Elsie,  child  of  God  and  grace  ! 

Goes  out  toward  Uie  garden. 

FORESTER. 

There  goes  the  good  woman  out  of  her  head ; 
And  Gottlieb's  supper  is  waiting  here  ; 


222  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

A  very  capacious  flagon  of  boor, 

And  a  very  portentous  loaf  of  bread. 

One  would  say  his  grief  did  not  much  oppress  hinw 

Here's  to  the  health  of  the  Prince,  God  bless  him 

He  drinks. 

Ha !  it  buzzes  and  stings  like  a  hornet  I 
And  what  a  scene  there,  through  the  door  I 
The  forest  behind  and  the  garden  before, 
And  midway  an  old  man  of  threescore, 
With  a  wife  and  children  that  caress  him. 
Let  me  try  still  further  to  cheer  and  adorn  it 
With  a  merry,  echoing  blast  of  my  cornet  I 

Goes  out  blowing  his  horn. 


THE  CASTLE   OF   VAUTSBERG   OX   THE   RHINE. 


HENRY  and    ELSIE    standing  on  the  terrace 
evening.      Tlie  sound  of  bells  heard  from  a  distance. 

FRINGE  HENRY. 

WE  are  alone.    The  wedding  guests 
Ride  down  the  hill,  with  plumes  and  cloaks, 
And  the  descending  dark  invests 
The  Niederwald,  and  all  the  nests 
Among  its  hoar  and  haunted  oaks. 

ELSIE. 

What  bells  are  those,  that  ring  so  slow, 
So  mellow,  musical,  and  low  V 

PRINCE   HENRY. 

They  are  the  bells  of  (leisenhoim, 
That  with  their  niclanrholy  chime 
Ring  out  the  curfew  of  the  sun. 


THE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  223 

ELSIE. 

Listen,  beloved. 


They  are  done  I 
Dear  Elsie  !  many  years  ago 
Those  same  soft  bells  at  eventide 
Rang  in  the  ears  of  Charlemagne, 
As,  seated  by  Fastrada's  side 
At  Ingelhcim,  in  all  his  pride 
He  heard  their  sound  with  secret  pain. 


Their  voices  only  speak  to  me 
Of  peace  and  deep  tranquillity, 
And  endless  confidence  in  thee  1 

PRINCE  HENRY. 

Thou  knowest  the  story  of  her  ring, 

How,  when  the  court  went  back  to  Aix, 

Fastrada  died ;  and  how  the  king 

Sat  watching  by  her  night  and  day, 

Till  into  one  of  the  blue  lakes, 

Which  water  that  delicious  land, 

They  cast  the  ring,  drawn  from  her  hand ; 

And  the  great  monarch  sat  serene 

And  sad  beside  the  fated  shore, 

Nor  left  the  land  forever  more. 

ELSIE. 

That  was  true  love. 

PKIXCE  HENRY. 

For  him  the  queen 
Ne'er  did  what  thou  hast  done  for  me. 

F.I.SIE. 

Wilt  thou  as  fond  and  faithful  be  ? 
Wilt  thou  so  love  me  after  death  ? 


224  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

PRIXCE  IIEXRT. 

In  life's  delight,  in  death's  dismay, 
In  storm  and  sunshine,  night  and  day, 
In  health,  in  sickness,  in  decay, 
Here  and  hereafter,  I  am  thine  ! 
Thou  hast  Fastrada's  rim*.     Beneath 
The  calm,  blue  waters  of  thine  eyes 
Deep  in  thy  steadfast  soul  it  lies, 
And,  undisturbed  by  this  world's  breath, 
With  magic  light  its  jewels  shine  ! 
This  golden  ring,  which  thou  hast  worn 
Upon  thy  finger  since  the  morn, 
Is  but  a  symbol  and  a  semblance, 
An  outward  fashion,  a  remembrance, 
Of  what  thou  wcarest  witliin  unseen, 
O  my  Fastrada,  O  my  queen ! 
Behold  !  the  hill-tops  all  aglow 
With  purple  and  with  amethyst ; 
While  the  whole  valley  deep  below 
Is  filled,  and  seems  to  overflow, 
With  a  fast-rising  tide  of  mist. 
The  evening  air  grows  damp  and  chill ; 
Let  us  go  in. 

ELSIE. 

Ah,  not  so  soon. 

See  yonder  fire  !     It  is  the  moon 
Slow  rising  o'er  the  eastern  hill. 
It  glimmers  on  the  forest  tips, 
And  through  the  dewy  foliage  drips 
In  little  rivulets  of  light, 
And  makes  the  heart  in  love  with  night. 

rmxcE  ITKXRT. 

Oft  on  this  terrace,  when  the  day 
Was  closing,  have  I  stood  and  gazed, 
And  seen  the  landscape  i'ade  away, 
And  the  white  vapors  rise  and  drown 
Hamlet  and  vineyard,  tower  and  town, 
While  far  above  the  hill-tops  blazed. 


THE   GOLDEN  LEGEXD.  225 

But  tben  another  hand  than  thine 
Was  gently  held  and  clasped  in  mine ; 
Another  head  upon  my  breast 
Was  laid,  as  thine  is  now,  at  rest. 
Why  dost  thou  lift  those  tender  eyes 
With  so  much  sorrow  and  surprise  ? 
A  minstrel's,  not  a  maiden's  hand, 
Was  that  which  in  my  own  was  pressed. 
A  manly  form  usurped  thy  place, 
A  beautiful,  but  bearded  lace, 
That  now  is  in  the  Holy  Land, 
Yet  in  my  memory  from  afar 
Is  shining  on  us  like  a  star. 
But  linger  not.     For  while  I  speak, 
A  sheeted  spectre  white  and  tall, 
The  cold  mist  climbs  the  castle  wall, 
And  lays  his  hand  upon  thy  cheek 

They  got*. 


EPILOGUE. 

THE   TWO   RECORDING   AXGELS   ASCEXDINO. 
TIIK  ANGEL  OF  GOOD  DEEDS,  With  doted  boot. 

GOD  sent  his  messenger  the  rain, 
And  said  unto  the  mountain  brook, 
"  Kise  up,  and  from  thy  caverns  look 
And  leap,  with  naked,  snow-white  i'eet, 
From  the  cool  hills  into  the  heat 
Of  the  broad,  arid  plaiu." 

God  sent  his  messenger  of  faith, 
And  whispered  in  the  maiden's  heart, 
**  Rise  up,  and  look  from  where  them  art, 
And  scatter  with  unselfish  hands 
Thy  freshness  on  the  barren  sauda 
And  solitudes  of  Death." 

()  beauty  of  holiness, 

Of  self-forgetful  ness,  of  lowliness  ! 

O  power  of  meekness, 

Whose  very  gentleness  and  weakness 

Are  like  the  yielding,  but  irresistible  JUT  . 

Upon  the  pages 

Of  the  sealed  volume  that  I  bear, 

The  deed  divine 

Is  written  in  characters  of  gold, 

That  never  shall  grow  old, 

But  through  all  ages 

Burn  and  shine, 


TOE  GOLDEN  LEGEND.  227 

With  soft  effulgence ! 
O  God  !  it  is  tliy  indulgence 
That  fills  the  world  with  the  bliss 
Of  a  good  deed  like  this  I 

THE  AXGKL  OF  EVIL  DEEDS,  with  Open  bOOL 

Not  yet,  not  yet 

Is  the  red  sun  whclly  set, 

But  evermore  recedes, 

While  open  still  I  bear 

The  Book  of  Evil  Deeds, 

To  let  the  breathings  of  the  upper  air 

Visit  its  pages  and  erase 

The  records  from  its  face  ! 

Fainter  and  fainter  as  I  gaze 

In  the  broad  blaze 

The  glimmering  landscape  shines, 

Ami  below  me  the  black  river 

Js  hidden  by  wreaths  of  vapor ! 

Fainter  and  fainter  the  black  lines 

Begin  to  quiver 

Along  tlie  whitening  surface  of  the  paper; 

Shade  after  shade 

The  terrible  words  grow  faint  and  fade, 

And  in  their  place 

Huns  a  white  space  I 

Down  goes  the  sun 

But  the  soul  of  one, 

Who  by  repentance 

Has  escaped  the  dreadful  sentence, 

•Shines  bright  below  me  as  I  look. 

It  is  the  end! 

With  closed  Book 

To  God  do  I  ascend. 

Lo  !  over  the  mountain  steeps 
A  dark,  gigantic  shadow  sweeps 
Beneath  my  feet ; 


228  THE   GOLDEN   LEGEND. 

A  blackness  inwardly  brightening 

With  sullen  heat, 

As  a  storm-cloud  lurid  with  lightning. 

Anil  a  cry  of  lamentation, 

Repeated  and  again  repeated, 

Deep  and  loud 

As  the  reverberation 

Of  cloud  answering  unto  cloud, 

Swells  and  rolls  away  in  the  distance, 

As  if  the  sheeted 

Lightning  retreated, 

Bullied  and  thwarted  by  the  wind's  resistance. 

It  is  Lucifer, 

The  son  of  mystery ; 

And  since  God  suffers  him  to  be* 

He,  too,  is  God's  minister, 


And  hbors  for  some  good 
By  us  not  understood  1 


THE    SONG    OF    HIAWATHA 

1855 


BTTOTTLD  yon  ask  me,  whence  these  stories  ? 

Whence  those  legends  and  traditions, 

With  the  odors  of  the  forest, 

Witli  the  dew  and  damp  of  meadows, 

With  the  curling  smoke  of  wigwams, 

Witli  the  rushing  of  great  rivers, 

With  their  frequent  repetitions, 

And  their  wild  reverberations, 

As  of  thunder  in  the  mountains? 

I  should  answer,  I  should  tell  you, 
"  From  the  ibrcsts  and  the  prairies, 
From  the  great  lakes  of  the  Northland, 
From  the  land  of  the  Ojibwavs, 
From  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs, 
From  the  mountains,  moors,  and  fen-lands, 
Where  the  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Feeds  among  the  reeds  and  rushes. 
I  repeat  them  as  I  heard  them 
From  the  lips  of  Nawadaha, 
The  musician,  the  sweet  singer." 

Should  you  ask  where  Nawadaha 
Found  these  songs,  so  wild  and  wayward, 
Found  these  legends  and  traditions, 
I  should  answer,  1  should  tell  you, 
**  Jn  the  bird's-nests  of  the  forest, 
In  the  lodges  of  the  beaver, 
In  the  hoof-prints  of  the  bison, 
In  the  eyry  of  the  eagle ! 

"  All  the  wild-fowl  sang  them  to  him, 
In  the  moorlands  and  the  fen-lands, 
1231) 


232  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

In  the  melancholy  marshes ; 
Chotowaik,  the  plover,  sang  them, 
Malinp,  the  loon,  the  wild  goose,  Wawa, 
The  blue  heron,  the  Slmli-shuh-gah, 
And  the  grouse,  the  Mushkodasa!  " 

If  still  further  you  should  ask  me, 
Saving,  "  Who  was  N a  wad aha ? 
Tell  us  of  this  Nawadaha," 
I  should  answer  your  inquiries 
Straightway  in  sm.-h  words  as  follow. 

"  In  the  Vale  of  Tawasentha, 
In  the  green  and  silent  valley, 
By  the  pleasant  water-courses, 
Dwelt  tne  singer  Nawadaha. 
Round  about  the  Indian  village 
Spread  the  meadows  and  the  corn-fields, 
And  beyond  them  stood  the  forest, 
Stood  the  groves  of  singing  pine-trees, 
Green  in  Summer,  white  in  Winter, 
Ever  sighing,  ever  singing. 

"  And  the  pleasant  water-courses, 
You  could  trace  them  through  the  valley, 
By  the  rushing  in  the  Spring-time, 
By  the  alders  in  the  Summer, 
By  the  white  fog  in  the  Autumn, 
By  the  black  line  in  the  Winter; 
And  beside  them  dwelt  the  singer, 
In  the  Vale  of  Tawasentha, 
In  >hc  green  and  silent  valley. 

"  There  he  sang  of  Hiawatha, 
Sang  the  Song  of  Hiaw;tth:i, 


Bang  his  wondrous  birth  and  being, 
How  he  prayed  and  how  he  fasted, 
How  he  lived,  and  toiled,  and  sutlercd, 
That  the  tribes  of  men  might  prosper, 
That  he  might  advance  his  people  1 " 
Ye  who  love  the  haunts  of  Nature, 
Love  the  sunshine  of  the  meadow, 
Love  the  shadow  of  the  forest, 


INTRODUCTION.  233 

Love  the  wind  among  the  branches, 
And  the  rain-shower  and  the  snow-stoim, 
And  the  rushing  of  great  rivers 
Through  theii1  palisades  of  pine-trees, 
And  the  thunder  in  the  mountains, 
Whose  innumerable  echoes 
Flap  like  eagles  in  their  eyries; — 
Listen  to  these  wild  traditions, 
To  this  Song  of  Hiawatha! 

Ye  who  love  a  nation's  legends, 
Love  the  ballads  of  a  people, 
That  like  voices  from  afar  off 
Call  to  us  to  pause  and  listen, 
Speak  in  tones  so  plain  arid  childlike, 
Scarcely  can  the  ear  distinguish 
Whethc'r  they  arc  sung  or  spoken; — 
Listen  to  this  Indian  Legend, 
To  this  Song  of  Hiawatha ! 

Ye  whose  hearts  are  fresh  and  simple, 
Who  have  faith  in  God  and  Nature, 
Who  believe,  that  in  all  ages 
Every  human  heart  is  human, 
That  in  even  savage  bosoms 
There  arc  longings,  yearnings,  strivings 
For  the  good  they  comprehend  not, 
That  the  feeble  hands  and  helpless, 
Groping  blindly  in  the  darkness, 
Touch  God's  right  hand  in  that  darknesa 
And  are  lifted  up  and  strengthened; — 
Listen  to  this  simple  story, 
To  this  Song  of  Hiawatha  ! 

Ye,  who  sometimes,  in  your  rambles 
Through  the  green  lanes  of  the  country, 
Where  the  tangled  barberry-bushes 
Hang  their  tufts  of  crimson  berries 
Over  Slavic  walls  gray  with  mosses, 
Pause  b    some  neglected  graveyard, 
For  a  while  to  muse,  and  ponder 
On  a  Lall-eH'aced  inscription, 


234  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Written  with  little  skill  of  song-craft, 
Ilomc-ly  phrases,  but  each  letter 
Full  of  hope  and  yet  of  heart-break, 
Full  of  all  the  tender  pathos 
Of  the  Here  and  the  Hereafter ; — 
Stay  and  read  this  rude  inscription, 
Bead  this  Song  of  .Hiawatha  1 


TOE  PEACE-PIPE. 

ON  the  Mountains  of  the  Prairie, 
On  the  great  lied  Pipe-stone  Quarry, 
Gitche  Manito,  the  mighty, 
He  the  Master  of  Life,  descending, 
On  the  red  crags  of  the  quarry 
Stood  erect,  and  called  the  nations, 
Called  the  tribes  of  men  together. 

From  his  footprints  flowed  a  river, 
Leaped  into  the  light  of  morning, 
O'er  the  precipice  plunging  downward 
Gleamed  like  Ishkoodah,  the  comet. 
And  the  Spirit,  stooping  earthward, 
With  his  linger  on  the  meadow 
Traced  a  winding  pathway  for  it, 
Saving  to  it,  "  Kun  in  this  way  1 " 

From  the  red  stone  of  the  quarry 
"With  his  hand  he  broke  a  fragment, 
Moulded  it  into  a  pipe-head, 
Shaped  and  fashioned  it  with  figures ; 
From  the  margin  of  the  river 
Took  a  long  reed  for  a  pipe-stem, 
With  its  dark  green  leaves  upon  it; 
Filled  the  pipe  with  Lark  of  willow, 
With  the  bark  of  the  red  willow  ; 
Breathed  upon  the  neighbouring  forest, 
Made  its  great  boughs  chafe  together, 
Till  in  flame  they  burst  and  kindled  ; 
And  erect  uj>on  the  mountains, 
Gitche  Manito,  the  mighty, 
Smoked  the  calumet,  the  Peace-Pipe, 
As  a  signal  to  the  nations. 

Aj'd  vac  smoke  rose  slowly,  slowly, 


236  THE   SONO   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Throngh  the  tranquil  air  of  morning, 
First  a  single  line  of  darkness, 
Then  a  denser,  bluer  vapor, 
Tlien  a  snow-white  cloud  unfolding, 
Like  the  tree-tops  of  the  forest, 
Ever  rising,  rising,  rising, 
Till  it  touched  the  top  of  heaven, 
Till  it  broke  against  the  heaven, 
And  rolled  outward  all  around  it 

From  the  Vale  of  Tawasentha, 
From  the  Valley  of  Wyoming, 
From  the  groves  of  Tuscaloosa, 
From  the  far-oil'  Rocky  Mountains, 
From  the  Northern  lakes  and  rivers, 
All  the  tribes  beheld  the  signal, 
Saw  the  distant  smoke,  ascending, 
The  Pukwana  of  the  Peacc-Pipc. 

And  the  Prophets  of  the  nations 
Said  :  "  Behold  it,  the  Pukwana  I 
By  this  signal  from  afar  oil', 
Bending  like  a  wand  of  willow, 
Waving  like  a  hand  that  beckons, 
Gitche  Manito,  the  mi^htv, 
Calls  the  tribes  of  men  together, 
Calls  the  Avarriors  to  his  council ! " 

Down  the  rivers,  o'er  the  prairies, 
Came  the  warriors  of  the  nations, 
Came  the  Delawarcs  and  Mohawks, 
Came  the  Choctaws  and  Camanches, 
Came  the  Shoshonies  and  Blackfect, 
Came  the  Pawnees  and  Omawhaws, 
Came  the  Mandans  and  Dacotahs, 
Came  the  Hurons  and  Ojibways, 
All  the  warriors  drawn  together 
By  the  signal  of  the  Peace-Pipe, 
To  the  Mountains  of  the  Prairie, 
To  the  great  Red  Pipe-stone  Quarry. 

And  they  stood  there  on  the  meadow, 
With  tlieir  weapons  and  tlieir  war  gear, 


THE   PEACE-PIPE.  237 

Painted  like  the  leaves  of  Autumn, 

Painted  like  the  sky  of  morning, 

Wildly  glaring  at  each  other; 

In  their  laces  stern  defiance, 

In  their  hearts  the  feuds  of  ages, 

The  hereditary  hatred, 

The  ancestral  thirst  of  vengeance. 

Gitehe  Manito,  the  mighty, 
The  creator  of  the  nations, 
Looked  upon  them  with  compassion, 
With  paternal  love  and  pity ; 
Looked  upon  their  wrath  and  wrangling 
But  as  quarrels  among  children, 
But  as  feuds  and  lights  of  children  I 

Over  them  he  stretched  his  right  hand, 
To  subdue  their  stubborn  natures, 
To  allay  their  thirst  and  fever, 
By  the  shadow  of  his  right  hand  ; 
Spake  to  them  with  voice  majestic 
As  the  sound  of  far-oil'  waters, 
Falling  into  deep  abysses, 
Warning,  chiding,  spake  in  this  wise  : — 

"  O  my  children  !  my  poor  children  1 
Listen  to  the  words  of  wisdom, 
Listen  to  the  words  of  warning, 
From  the  lips  of  the  Great  Spirit, 
From  the  Master  of  Life,  who  made  you 

"  I  have  given  you  lands  to  hunt  in, 
I  have  given  you  streams  to  fish  in, 
I  have  given  you  bear  and  bison, 
I  have  given  you  roe  and  reindeer, 
I  have  given  you  brant  and  beaver, 
Filled  the  marshes  full  of  wild-fowl, 
Filled  the  rivers  full  of  fishes; 
Why  then  are  you  not  contented  ? 
Why  then  will  you  hunt  each  other  ? 

"  I  am  weary  of  your  quarrels, 
Weary  of  your  wars  and  bloodshed, 
Weary  of  your  prayers  for  vengeance, 


238  THE   BONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Of  your  wranglings  and  dissensions; 
AH  your  strength  "is  in  your  union, 
All  your  danger  is  in  discord; 
Therefore  be  at  peace  henceforward, 
And  as  brothers  live  together. 

"  I  will  send  a  Prophet  to  you, 
A  Deliverer  of  the  nations, 
Who  shall  guide  you  and  shall  teach  yon, 
Who  shall  toil  and  sutler  with  you. 
If  you  listen  to  his  counsels, 
You  will  multiply  and  prosper ; 
If  his  warnings  pass  unheeded, 
You  will  fade  away  and  perish  1 

"  Bathe  now  in  the  stream  before  you, 
Wash  the  war-paint  from  your  faces, 
Wash  the  blood-stains  from  your  fingers, 
Bury  your  war-clubs  and  your  weajx>ns, 
Break  the  red  stone  from  this  quarry, 
Mould  and  make  it  into  Peace- Pipes, 
Take  the  reeds  that  grow  beside  you, 
Deck  them  with  your  brightest  feathers, 
Smoke  the  calumet  together, 
And  as  brothers  live  henceforward  !  " 

Then  upon  the  ground  the  warriors 
Threw  their  cloaks  and  shirts  of  deer-skin, 
Threw  their  weapons  and  their  war-gear, 
Leaped  into  the  rushing  river, 
Washed  the  war-paint  from  their  faces. 
Clear  above  them  flowed  the  water, 
Clear  and  limpid  from  the  footprints 
Of  the  Master  of  Life  descending; 
Dark  below  them  flowed  the  water, 
Soiled  and  stained  with  streaks  of  crimson, 
As  if  blood  were  mingled  with  it ! 

From  the  river  came  the  warriors, 
Clean  and  washed  from  all  their  war-paint; 
On  the  banks  their  clubs  they  buried, 
Buried  all  their  warlike  weapons. 
Gitche  Mauito,  the  mighty, 


THE   PEACE-PIPE.  239 

The  Great  Spirit,  the  creator, 
Smiled  upon  his  helpless  children  I 

And  in  silence  all  the  warriors 
Broke  the  red  stone  of  the  quarry, 
Smoothed  and  formed  it  into  Peace-Pipes, 
Broke  the  long  reeds  by  the  river, 
Decked  them  with  their  brightest  feathers, 
And  departed  each  one  homeward, 
"While  the  Master  of  Life,  ascending, 
Through  the  opening  of  cloud-curtains, 
Through  the  doorways  of  the  heaven, 
Vanished  from  before  their  faces, 
In  the  smoke  that  rolled  around  him, 
The  Pukwana  of  the  Peace-Pipe  1 


n. 

THE   FOUR    WIXD3. 

"  HONOR  be  to  Mudjckeewis!" 
Cried  the  warriors,  cried  the  old  men, 
When  he  came  in  triumph  homeward 
With  the  sacred  Belt  of  Wampum, 
From  the  regions  of  the  North- Wind, 
From  the  kingdom  of  Wabasso, 
From  the  lanil  of  the  White  I'abbit 

He  had  stolen  the  Belt  of  Wampum 
From  the  neck  of  Mishc-Mokwa, 
From  the  Great  Bear  of  the  mountains, 
From  the  terror  of  the  nations, 
As  he  lay  asleep  and  cumbrous 
On  the  summit  of  the  mountains, 
Like  a  rock  with  mosses  on  it, 
Spotted  brown  and  gray  with  mosses. 

Silently  he  stole  upon  him, 
Till  the  red  nails  of  the  monster 
Almost  touched  him,  almost  scared  him, 
Till  the  hot  breath  of  his  nostrils 
Warmed  the  hands  of  Mmljekeewis, 
As  he  drew  the  Belt  of  Wampum 
Over  the  round  cars,  that  heard  not, 
Over  the  small  eyes,  that  saw  not, 
Over  the  long  nose  and  nostrils, 
The  black  muffle  of  the  nostrils, 
Out  of  which  the  heavy  breathing 
Warmed  the  hands  of  Mudjckcewis. 

Then  he  swung  aloft  his  war-club, 
Shouted  loud  and  long  his  war-cry, 
Smote  the  mighty  Mishe-Mokwa 
In  the  middle  of  the  forehead, 
Right  between  the  eyes  he  smote  him. 
(240) 


THE   FOtTB   WINDS.  $41 

With  the  heavy  blow  bewildered. 
Rose  the  Great  Bear  of  the  mountains ; 
But  his  knees  beneath  him  trembled, 
And  he  whimpered  like  a  woman, 
As  he  reeled  and  staggered  forward, 
As  he  sat  upon  his  haunches ; 
And  the  mighty  Mudjekeewis, 
Standing  fearlessly  before  him, 
Taunted  him  in  loud  derision, 
Spake  disdainfully  in  this  wise  : — 

"  Hark  you,  Bear !  you  are  a  coward, 
And  no  Brave,  as  you  pretended  ; 
Else  you  would  not  cry  and  whimper 
Like  a  miserable  woman  1 
Bear !  you  know  our  tribes  are  hostilei 
Long  have  been  at  war  together ; 
Now  you  find  that  we  are  strongest, 
You  go  sneaking  in  the  forest, 
You  go  hiding  in  the  mountains  I 
Had  you  conquered  me  in  battle 
Not  a  groan  would  I  have  uttered ; 
But  you,  Bear !  sit  here  and  whimper, 
And  disgrace  your  tribe  by  crying, 
Like  a  wretched  Shaugodaya, 
Like  a  cowardly  old  woman  ! " 

Then  again  he  raised  his  war-club, 
Smote  again  the  Mishe-Mokwa 
In  the  middle  of  his  forehead, 
Broke  his  skull,  as  ice  is  broken 
When  one  goes  to  fish  in  Winter. 
Thus  was  slain  the  Mishe-Mokwa, 
He  the  Great  Bear  of  the  mountains, 
He  the  terror  of  the  nations. 

"  Honor  be  to  Mudjekeewis  I " 
With  a  shout  exclaimed  the  people, 
"  Honor  be  to  Mudjekeewis  ! 
Henceforth  he  shall  bo  the  West- Wind, 
And  hereafter  and  forever 
Shall  he  hold  supreme  dominion 

VOL.  n.  16 


242  THE   SONG   O*    HIAWATHA. 

Over  all  the  winds  of  heaven. 

Call  him  no  more  Mudjekeewi*, 

Call  him  Kabcyun,  the  West-Wind!" 

Thus  was  Uudjekeewifl  chosen 
Father  of  the  Winds  of  Jloaven. 
For  himself  he  kept  the  West- Wind, 
Gave  Ihc  others  to  his  children  ; 
Unto  Wabun  pave  the  Kast-Wind, 
Gave  the  South  to  Shawondasec, 
And  the  Nortli-Wind,  wild  and  cruel, 
To  the  fierce  Kabibonokka. 

Young  and  beautiful  was  Wabun; 
lie  it  was  who  brought  the  morning, 
He  it  was  whose  silver  arrows 
Chased  the  dark  o'er  hill  and  valley; 
He  it  wa^  whose  cheeks  were  painted 
With  the  brightest  streaks  of  crimson. 
And  whose  voice  awoke  the  village, 
Called  the  deer,  and  called  the  hunter. 

Lonely  in  the  sky  was  Wabun  ; 
Though  the  birds  «ing  gaylv  to  him, 
Though  the  wild-flowers  of  the  meadow 
Filled  the  air  with  odors  for  him, 
Though  the  forests  and  the  rivers 
Sang  and  shouted  at  his  coming, 
Still  his  heart  was  sad  within  bun, 
For  he  was  alone  in  heaven. 

But  one  morning,  gazing  earthward, 
While  the  village  still  was  sleeping, 
And  the  fog  lay  on  the  river, 
Like  a  ghost,  that  goes  at  sunrise, 
He  beheld  a  maiden  walking 
All  alone  upon  a  meadow, 
Gathering  water-flags  and  rushes 
By  a  river  in  the  meadow. 

Every  morning,  gazing  earthward, 
Still  the  first  thiiig  lie  beheld  there 
Was  her  blue  eyes  looking  at  him, 
Two  blue  lakes  among  the  rushes. 


THE  FOUK  WIXDS.  24S 

And  lie  loved  tbc  lonely  maiden, 
Who  thus  waited  for  his  coming; 
For  they  both  were  solitary, 
She  on  earth  and  he  in  heaven. 

And  he  wooed  her  with  caresses, 
Wooed  her  with  his  smile  of  sunshine, 
With  his  flattering  words  he  wooed  her, 
With  bis  sighing  and  his  singing, 
Gentlest  whispers  in  the  branches, 
Softest  music,  sweetest  odors, 
Till  he  drew  her  to  his  bosom, 
Folded  in  his  robes  of  crimson, 
Till  into  a  star  he  changed  her, 
Trembling  still  upon  his  bosom  ; 
And  forever  in  the  heavens 
They  are  seen  together  walking, 
Wabun  and  the  Wabun-Annung, 
Wabun  and  the  Star  of  Morning. 

But  the  fierce  Kabibonokki 
Had  his  dwelling  among  icebergs, 
In  the  everlasting  snow-drifts, 
In  the  kingdom  of  Wabasso, 
In  the  land  of  the  White  Rabbit. 
He  it  was  whose  hand  in  Autumn 
Painted  all  the  trees  with  scarlet, 
Stained  the  leaves  with  red  and  yellow; 
lie  it  was  who  sent  the  snow-flakes, 
Silting,  hissing  through  the  forest, 
Froze  the  ponds,  the  lakes,  the  rivers, 
Drove  the  loon  and  sea-gull  southward, 
Drove  the  cormorant  and  curlew 
To  their  nests  of  sedge  and  sea-tang 
In  the  realms  of  Shawondasce. 

Once  the  fierce  Kabibonokka 
Issued  from  his  lodge  of  snow-drifts, 
From  his  home  among  the  icebergs, 
And  his  hair,  with  snow  besprinkled 
Streamed  behind  him  like  a  river, 
Like  a  black  and  wintry  river, 


244  THE   SOXG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

As  he  howled  and  hurried  southward, 
Over  fro/en  lakes  and  moorlands. 

There  among  the  reeds  and  rushes 
Found  he  Shingebtfl,  the  diver, 
Trailing  strings  of  fish  behind  him, 
O'er  the  frozen  fens  and  moorlands, 
Lingering  still  among  the  moorlands, 
Though  his  tribe  had  long  departed 
To  the  land  of  Shawond.-isrc. 

Cried  the  fierce  Kabibonokka, 
"  Who  is  this  that  dares  to  brave  me  ? 
Dares  to  stay  in  my  dominions, 
When  the  Wawa  has  departed, 
When  the  wild-goose  has  gone  southward, 
And  the  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Long  ago  departed  southward  ? 
I  will  go  into  his  wigwam, 
I  will  put  his  smouldering  fire  out !  " 

And  at  night  Kabibonokka 
To  the  lodge  came  wild  and  wailing, 
Heaped  the  snow  in  drifts  about  it, 
Shouted  down  into  the  smoke-flue, 
Shook  the  lodge-poles  in  his  fury, 
Flapped  the  curtain  of  the  door-way. 
Shingebis,  the  diver,  feared  not, 
Shingebis,  the  diver,  cared  not ; 
Four  great  logs  had  he  for  fire-wood, 
One  for  each  moon  of  the  Avintcr, 
And  for  food  the  fishes  served  him. 
By  his  blazing  fire  he  sat  llu-iv, 
\\  arm  and  merry,  eating,  laughing, 
Singing,  "  O  Kabibonokka, 
You  are  but  my  fellow-mortal !  " 

Then  Kabibonokka  cnti-ivd, 
And  though  Shingebi-i,  the  diver, 
Felt  his  presence  by  the  coldness, 
Felt  his  icy  breath  upon  him, 
Still  he  did  not  cease  his  singing, 
Still  he  did  not  leave  hid  laughing, 


THE   FOUR   WIXDS. 

Only  turned  the  log  a  little, 
Only  made  the  fire  burn  brighter, 
]\'  :<ie  the  sparks  fly  up  the  smoke-flue 

.V'-oin  Kabibonokka's  forehead, 
Froiv.  his  snow-besprinkled  tresses, 
Drops  of  sweat  fell  fast  and  heavy, 
Making  dints  upon  the  ashes, 
As  along  the  eaves  of  lodges, 
As  from  drooping  boughs  of  hemlock, 
Drips  the  melting  snow  in  spring-time, 
Making  hollows  in  the  snow-drifts. 

Till  at  last  he  rose  defeated, 
Could  not  bear  the  heat  and  laughter, 
Could  not  bear  the  merry  singing, 
But  rushed  headlong  through  the  door-way, 
Stamped  upon  the  crusted  snow-drifts, 
Stamped  upon  the  lakes  and  rivers, 
Made  the  snow  upon  them  harder, 
Made  the  ice  upon  them  thicker, 
Challenged  Shingebis,  the  diver, 
To  come  forth  and  wrestle  with  him, 
To  come  forth  and  wrestle  naked 
On  the  frozen  fens  and  moorlands. 

Forth  went  Shingebis,  the  diver, 
Wrestled  all  night  with  the  North- Wind, 
Wrestled  naked  on  the  inoorlands 
With  the  fierce  Kabibonokka, 
Till  his  panting  breath  grew  fainter, 
Till  his  frozen  grasp  grew  feebler, 
Till  he  reeled  and  staggered  backward, 
And  retreated,  baffled,  beaten, 
To  the  kingdom  of  Wabasso, 
To  the  land  of  the  White  Rabbit, 
Hearing  still  the  gusty  laughter, 
Hearing  Shingebis,  the  diver, 
•Singing,  "  O  Kabibonokka, 
You  are  but  my  fellow-mortal  I  " 

Shawondasee,  fat  and  lazy, 
Uad  his  dwelling  far  to  southward, 


148  THE  80X0   OF   HIAWATHA. 

In  llic  flrowsy,  dreamy  sunsliine, 

In  the  never-ending  Summer. 

Ho  it  was  who  sent  tin;  wood-birds, 

Sent  the  robin,  the  Opechec, 

Sent  the  blue-bird,  the  Owaissa, 

Sent  the  Shawshaw,  sent  the  swallow, 

Scut  the  wild-goose,  Wawa,  northward, 

Sent  the  melons  and  tobacco, 

And  the  grapes  in  purple  clusters. 

From  his  pipe  the  smoke  ascending 
Filled  the  sky  with  haze  and  vapor, 
Filled  the  air  with  dreamy  softness, 
Gave  a  twinkle  to  the  water, 
Touched  the  nigged  hills  with  smoothnea^ 
Brought  the  tender  Indian  Summer 
To  the  melancholy  north-land, 
In  the  dreary  Moon  of  Snow-shoes. 

Listless,  careless  Slmwoudasee  1 
In  his  life  he  had  one  shadow, 
In  his  heart  one  sorrow  had  he. 
Once,  as  he  was  gazing  northward, 
Far  away  upon  a  prairie 
He  beheld  a  maiden  standing, 
Saw  a  tall  and  slender  maiden 
All  alone  upon  a  prairie  ; 
Brightest  green  were  all  her  garments, 
And  her  hair  was  like  the  sunshine. 

Day  by  day  he  gazed  upon  her, 
Day  by  day  he  sighed  with  passion, 
Day  by  day  his  heart  within  him 
Grew  more  hot  with  love  and  longing 
For  the  maid  with  yellow  tresses. 
But  he  was  too  fat  and  l.i/y 
To  bestir  himself  and  woo  her  ; 
Yes,  too  indolent  and  f.i-y 
To  pursue  her  and  persuade  her. 
So  he  only  gazed  upon  her, 
Only  sat  and  sighed  with  passion 
For  the  maiden  of  the  prairie. 


THE  FOUn  \VDsD3.  241 

Till  one  morninu,  looking  northward, 
He  beheld  her  yellow  tresses 
Changed  and  covered  o'er  with  whiteness, 
Covered  as  with  whitest  snow-flakes. 
M  Ah  !  my  brother  from  the  North-land, 
From  the  kingdom  of  Wabasso, 
From  the  land  of  the  "White  Rabbit  I 
You  have  stolen  the  maiden  from  me, 
You  have  laid  your  hand  upon  her, 
You  have  wooed  and  won  my  maiden, 
With  your  stories  of  the  North-land!  " 

Thus  the  wretched  Shawomlasec 
Breathed  into  the  air  his  sorrow ; 
And  the  South- Wind  o'er  the  prairie 
Wandered  warm  with  sighs  of  passion, 
With  the  sighs  of  Shawondasee, 
Till  the  air  seemed  lull  of  snow-flakes, 
Full  of  thistle-down  the  prairie, 
And  the  maid  with  hair  like  sunshine 
Vanished  from  his  sight  forever; 
Kever  more  did  Shawondasco 
See  the  maid  with  yellow  tresses! 

Poor,  deluded  Shawondasee  ! 
T  was  no  woman  that  you  gaxcd  at, 
'T  was  no  maiden  that  you  sighed  for, 
T  was  the  prairie  dandelion 
That  through  all  the  dreamy  Summer 
You  had  gaxcd  at  with  such  longing, 
You  had  sighed  for  with  such  passion, 
And  had  pulled  away  forever, 
Blown  into  the  air  with  sighing. 
Ah  !  deluded  Shawondasee  ! 

Thus  the  Four  Winds  were  divided 
Thus  the  sons  of  Mudjukeewis 
Had  their  stations  in  the  heavens; 
At  the  corners  of  the  heavens ; 
For  himself  the  West- Wind  only 
Kept  tl"i  mighty  Mudjekucwis. 


m 

HIAWATHA'S  CHILDHOOD. 


through  the  evening  twilight, 
In  the  days  that  are  forgotten, 
In  the  unrcmembered  ases, 
From  the  full  moon  fell  Nokomis, 
Fell  the  beautiful  Nokomis, 
She  a  wife,  but  not  a  mother. 

She  was  sporting  with  her  women, 
Swinging  in  a  swing  of  grape-vines, 
When  her  rival,  the  rejected, 
Full  of  jealousy  and  hatred, 
Cut  the  leafy  swing  asunder, 
Cut  in  twain  the  twisted  grape-vines, 
And  Nokomis  fell  ailriglited 
Downward  through  the  evening  twilight, 
On  the  Muskoday,  the  meadow, 
On  the  prairie  full  of  blossoms. 
"  See  !  a  star  falls  I  "  said  the  people  ; 
"  From  the  sky  a  star  is  falling  !  " 

There  among  the  ferns  and  mosses, 
There  among  the  prairie  lilies, 
On  the  Muskoday,  the  meadow, 
In  the  moonlight  and  the  starlight, 
Fair  Nokomis  bore  a  daughter. 
And  she  called  her  name  Wenonah, 
As  the  first-born  of  her  daughters. 
And  the  daughter  of  Nokomis 
Grew  up  like  the  prairie  lilios, 
Grew  a  tall  and  slender  maiden, 
With  the  beauty  of  the  moonlight, 
With  the  beauty  of  the  starlight. 

And  Nokomis  warned  her  oflen, 
Saying  oft,  and  oft  repeating, 

a 


HIAWATHA'S  CHILDHOOD.  249 

"  O,  beware  of  Mtidjokcewis, 

Of  the  West- Wind,  Miidjekeewig ; 

Listen  not  to  what  he  tells  you  ; 

Lie  not  down  upon  the  meadow, 

Stoop  not  down  among  the  lilies, 

Lest  the  West-Wind  come  and  harm  you  I* 

But  she  heeded  not  the  warning, 
Heeded  not  those  words  of  wisdom, 
And  the  West- Wind  came  at  evening, 
Walking  lightly  o'er  the  prairie, 
Whispering  to  the  leaves  and  blossoms, 
Bending  low  the  flowers  and  grasses, 
Found  the  beautiful  AVcnonah, 
Lying  there  among  the  lilies, 
Wooed  her  with  his  words  of  sweetness, 
Wooed  her  with  his  soft  caresses, 
Till  she  bore  a  son  in  sorrow, 
Bore  a  son  of  love  and  sorrow. 

Thus  was  born  my  Hiawatha, 
Thus  was  born  the  child  of  wonder; 
But  the  daughter  of  Xokomis, 
Hiawatha's  gentle  mother, 
In  her  anguish  died  deserted 
By  the  West-Wind,  false  and  faithless, 
By  the  heartless  Mudjekeewis. 

For  her  daughter,  long  and  loudly 
Wailed  and  wept  the  sad  Nokomis; 
u  O  that  I  were  dead  !  "  she  murmured, 
"  O  that  I  were  dead,  as  tliou  art ! 
No  more  work,  and  no  more  weeping, 
Wahonowin  !  Wahonowin  !  " 

By  the  shores  of  Gitche  Gumee, 
By  the  shining  Big-Sea-Water, 
Stood  the  wigwam  of  Xokomis, 
Daughter  of  the  Moon,  Nokomis. 
Dark  behind  it  rose  the  forest, 
Rose  the  black  and  gloomy  pine-trees, 
Rose  the  firs  with  cones  upon  them; 
Bright  before  it  beat  the  water, 


250  THE   SOXQ   OF    HIAWATHA. 

Beat  the  clear  and  sunny  water, 
Beat  the  shining  Big-Sea- Water. 

There  the  wrinkled,  old  Nokoinia 
Nursed  the  little  Hiawatha, 
Rocked  Lira  in  his  linden  cradle, 
Bedded  soft  in  moss  and  rustics, 
Safely  bound  with  reindeer  sinews; 
Stilled  his  fretful  wail  by  saying, 
"  Hush  !  the  Naked  Bear  will  get  thee !" 
Lulled  him  into  slumber,  singing, 
"  Ewa-yca!  my  little  owlet! 
Who  is  this,  that  lights  the  wigwam  ? 
With  his  great  eyes  lights  the  wigwam? 
Ewa-yca  !  my  little  owlet !  " 

Many  things  Xokomis  taught  him 
Of  the  stars  that  shine  in  heaven  ; 
Showed  him  Ishkoodah,  the  comet, 
Ishkoodah,  with  fiery  tresses; 
Showed  the  Death- Dance  of  the  spirits, 
Warriors  with  their  plumes  and  war-cluba, 
Flaring  far  away  to  northward 
In  the  frosty  nights  of  Winter  ; 
Showed  the  broad,  white  road  in  heaven, 
Pathway  of  the  ghosts,  the  shadows, 
Running  straight  across  the  heavens, 
Crowded  with  the  ghosts,  the  shadows. 

At  the  door  on  summer  evenings 
Sat  the  little  Hiawatha  ; 
Heard  the  whispering  of  the  pine-trees, 
Heard  the  lapping  of  the  water, 
Sounds  of  music,  words  of  wonder; 
'•  Minne-wawa  !  "  said  the  pirn-lives, 
"Mudway-aushka  !  "  wiid  tin:  water. 

Saw  the  lire-lly,  Wah-wah-taysec, 
Flitting  through  the  dusk  of  evening, 
With  the  twinkle  of  its  candle 
Lighting  up  the  brakes  and  bushes, 
And  he  sang  the  smig  of  children, 
Song  the  song  Nokouiis  taught  him: 


HIAWATHA'S  CHILDHOOD.  251 

"  Wah-wah-tayscc,  little  fire-fly, 
Little,  jlitting,  white-fire  insect, 
Little,  dancing,  white-lire  creature, 
Light  me  with  your  little  caudle, 
Ere  upon  my  bed  I  lay  me, 
Ere  in  sleep  I  close  my  eyelids  !  " 

Saw  the  moon  rise  from  the  water 
Rippling,  rounding  from  the  water, 
Saw  the  flecks  and  shadows  on  it, 
Whispered,  "  What  is  that,  Xokomis  ?  " 
And  the  good  Xokomis  answered : 
"  Once  a  warrior,  very  angry, 
Seized  his  grandmother,  and  threw  her 
Up  into  the  sky  at  midnight; 
Right  against  the  moon  he  threw  her  ; 
T  is  her  body  that  you  see  there." 

Saw  the  rainbow  in  the  heaven, 
In  the  eastern  sky,  the  rainbow, 
Whispered,  "  What  is  that,  Xokomis  ?  " 
And  the  good  Xokomis  answered  : 
M'T  is  the  heaven  of  llowers  you  see  there i 
All  the  wild-ilowcrs  of  the  forest, 
All  the  lilies  of  the  prairie, 
When  on  earth  they  lade  and  perish, 
Blossom  in  that  heaven  above  us." 

When  he  heard  the  owls  at  midnight, 
Hooting,  laughing  in  the  forest, 
«« What  is  that  V  "  he  cried  in  terror; 
"  What  is  that  ?  "  he  said,  "  Xokouiis  ?  * 
And  the  good  Xokomis  answered : 
"  That  is  but  the  owl  and  owlet, 
Talking  in  their  native  language, 
Talking,  scolding  at  each  other." 

Then  the  little  Hiawatha 
Learned  of  every  bird  its  language, 
Learned  their  names  and  all  llieir  secreta, 
How  they  built  their  nests  in  Summer, 
"\Vhcrc  they  hid  themselves  in  Winter, 
Talked  with  them  whene'er  he  met  them, 
Called  them  "  Hiawatha's  Chickens." 


252  THE   SOXG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

Of  all  beasts  he  learned  the  language, 
Learned  their  names  and  all  their  secrets, 
How  the  beavers  built  their  lodges, 
Where  the  squirrels  hid  their  acorns, 
How  the  reindeer  ran  so  swiftly, 
Why  the  rabbit  was  so  timid, 
Talked  with  them  whene'er  he  met  them, 
Called  them  "  Hiawatha's  Urothers." 

Then  lagoo,  the  great  boaster, 
He  the  marvellous  story-teller, 
He  the  traveller  and  the  talker, 
He  the  friend  of  old  Nokomis, 
Made  a  bow  for  Hiawatha ; 
From  a  branch  of  ash  he  made  it, 
From  an  oak-bough  made  the  arrows, 
Tipped  with  flint,  and  winged  with  feathers, 
And  the  cord  he  made  of  deer-skin. 

Then  he  said  to  Hiawatha: 
"  Go,  my  son,  into  the  forest, 
Where  the  red  deer  herd  together, 
Kill  for  us  a  famous  roebuck, 
Kill  for  us  a  deer  with  antlers!" 

Forth  into  the  forest  straightway 
All  alone  walked  Hiawatha 
Proudly,  with  his  bow  and  arrows ; 
And  the  birds  sang  round  him,  o'er  him, 
u  Do  not  shoot  us  Hiawatha  1 " 
Sang  the  robin,  the  Opcchee, 
Sang  the  blue-bird,  the  Owaissa, 
"  Do  not  shoot  us,  Hiawatha  1 " 

Up  the  oak-tree,  close  beside  him, 
Sprang  the  squirrel.  Adjidaumo, 
In  and  out  among  the  branches. 
Coughed  and  chattered  from  the  oak-*ree, 
Laughed,  and  said  between  his  laughing, 
MDo  not  shoot  me,  Hiawatha  !" 

And  the  rabbit  from  his  pathway 
Leaped  aside,  and  at  a  distance 
Bat  erect  upon  his  haunches, 


HIAWATHA'S  CHILDHOOD.  25S 

Half  in  fear  and  half  in  frolic, 

Saying  to  the  little  hunter, 

*  Do  not  shoot  me,  Hiawatha  !  " 

'    But  he  heeded  not.  nor  heard  them, 

For  his  thoughts  were  with  the  red  deer} 

On  their  tracks  his  eyes  were  fastened, 

Leading  downward  to  the  river, 

To  the  lord  across  the  river, 

And  as  one  in  slumber  walked  he. 

Hidden  in  the  alder-bushes, 
There  he  waited  till  the  deer  came, 
Till  he  saw  two  antlers  lifted, 
Saw  two  eyes  look  from  the  thicket, 
Saw  two  nostrils  point  to  windward, 
And  a  deer  came  down  the  pathway, 
Flecked  with  leafy  light  and  shadow. 
And  his  heart  within  him  fluttered, 
Trembled  like  the  leaves  above  him, 
Like  the  birch-leaf  palpitated, 
As  the  deer  came  down  the  pathmj; 

Then,  upon  one  knee  uprising, 
Hiawatha  aimed  an  arrow  ; 
Scarce  a  twin;  moved  with  his  motion, 
Scarce  a  leaf  was  stirred  or  rustled, 
But  the  wary  roebuck  started, 
Stamped  with  all  his  hoofs  together, 
Listened  with  one  foot  uplifted, 
Leaped  as  if  to  meet  the  arrow ; 
Ah  !  the  singing,  fatal  arrow, 
Like  a  wasp  it  buzzed  and  stung  him  < 

Dead  he  lay  there  in  the  forest, 
By  the  ford  across  the  river  ; 
Beat  his  timid  heart  no  longer, 
But  the  heart  of  Hiawatha 
Throbbed  and  shouted  and  exulted, 
As  he  bore  the  rod  deer  homeward, 
And  lagoo  and  ]STokomis 
Hailed  his  coming  with  applauses. 

From  the  red  deer's  hide  Nokomb 


254  THE   6OXO   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Made  a  cloak  for  Hittwxtha, 
From  (lie  red  di-rrV  Ili-.-li  Nokoinis 
Made  a  banquet  in  Ins  lioiior. 
All  tlie  village  came  and  ll-astod, 
All  tlic  guests  praised  Hiawatha, 
Called  him  Stronji-lleart,  .Soan-gc-taha  I 
Called  him  Looii-lieart,  ALxhu-go-tajsecl 


IV. 

HIAWATHA  AND   MUDJEKKEWI8. 

OUT  of  childhood  into  manhood 
Now  had  grown  iny  Hiawatha, 
Skilled  in  all  the  craft  of  hunters, 
Learned  in  all  the  lore  of  old  men, 
In  all  youthful  sports  and  pastimes, 
In  all  manly  arts  and  labors. 

Swift  of  foot  was  Hiawatha; 
lie  could  shoot  an  arrow  1'rom  him, 
And  run  forward  with  such  fleetness, 
That  the  arrow  fell  behind  him  1 
Strong  of  arm  was  Hiawatha; 
He  could  shoot  ten  arrows  upward, 
Shoot  them  with  such  strength  and  swiftness, 
That  the  tenth  had  left  the  bow-string 
Ere  the  first  to  earth  had  fallen  ! 

lie  had  mittens,  Minjekahwun, 
Magic  mittens  made  of  deer-skin ; 
AVhen  upon  his  hands  he  wore  them, 
He  could  smite  the  rocks  asunder, 
He  could  grind  them  into  powder. 
He  had  moccasins  enchanted, 
Magic  moccasins  of  deer-skin  ; 
When  he  bound  them  round  his  anklet 
When  upon  his  feet  he  tied  them, 
At  each  stride  a  mile  he  measured  1 

Much  he  questioned  old  Nokoinis 
Of  his  father  Mudjckeewis ; 
Learned  from  her  the  fatal  secret 
Of  the  beauty  of  his  mother, 
Of  the  falsehood  of  his  father ; 
And  his  heart  was  hot  within  him, 
Like  a  living  coal  his  heart  -was. 


256  THE   SOXG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Then  he  said  to  old  Nokomig, 
"  I  will  go  to  Mudjckecwis, 
See  how  fares  it  with  my  father, 
At  the  doorways  of  the  West- Wind, 
At  the  portals  of  the  Sunset  1 " 

From  his  lodge  went  Hiawatha, 
Dressed  for  travel,  armed  for  hunting; 
Dressed  in  deer-skin  shirt  and  leggings, 
Richly  wrought  with  quills  and  wampum  J 
On  his  head  his  eagle-feathers, 
Round  his  waist  his  belt  of  wampum, 
In  his  hand  his  bow  of  ash-wood, 
Strung  with  sinews  of  the  reindeer ; 
In  his  quiver  oaken  arrows, 
Tipped  with  jasper,  winged  with  feathers ; 
With  his  mittens,  Minjekahwun, 
With  his  moccasins  enchanted. 

Warning  said  the  old  Nokoinis, 
«  Go  not  forth,  O  Hiawatha  I 
To  the  kingdom  of  the  West- Wind, 
To  the  realms  of  Mmljekecwis, 
Lest  he  harm  you  with  his  magic, 
Lest  he  kill  you  with  his  cunning  ! " 

But  the  fearless  Hiawatha 
Heeded  not  her  woman's  warning ; 
Forth  he  strode  into  the  forest, 
At  each  stride  a  mile  he  measured ; 
Lurid  seemed  the  sky  above  him, 
Lurid  seemed  the  earth  beneath  him, 
Hot  and  close  the  air  around  him, 
Filled  with  smoke  and  fiery  vapors, 
As  of  burning  woods  and  prairies, 
For  his  heart  was  hot  within  him, 
Like  a  living  coal  his  heart  was. 

So  he  journeyed  westward,  westwart^ 
Left  the  fleetest  deer  behind  him, 
Left  the  antelope  and  bison  ; 
Crossed  the  rushing  Ksconawbaw 
Crossed  the  mighty  Mississippi, 


H1AWATIIA    AND    MUDJEKEEWIS.  257 

Passed  the  Mountains  of  the  Prairie, 
Passed  the  land  of  Crows  and  Foxes, 
Passed  the  dwellings  of  the  Blackfeet, 
Came  unto  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
To  the  kingdom  of  the  West-AVind, 
Where  upon  the  gusty  summits 
Sat  the  ancient  Mudjekeewis, 
Ruler  of  the  winds  of  heaven. 

Filled  with  awe  was  Hiawatha 
At  the  aspect  of  his  father. 
On  the  air  about  him  wildly 
Tossed  and  streamed  his  cloudy  tresses, 
Gleamed  like  drifting  snow  his  tresses, 
Glared  like  Ishkoodah,  the  comet, 
Like  the  star  with  fiery  tresses. 

Filled  with  joy  was  Mudjekeewis 
When  he  looked  on  Hiawatha, 
Saw  his  youth  rise  up  before  him 
Jn  the  face  of  Hiawatha, 
Saw  the  beauty  of  Wenonah 
From  the  grave  rise  up  before  him. 

"  Welcome  !  "  said  he,  "  Hiawatha, 
To  the  kingdom  of  the  West- Wind  I 
Ix>ng  have  I  been  waiting  for  you  ! 
Youth  is  lovely,  age  is  lonely, 
Youth  is  fiery,  age  is  frosty ; 
You  bring  back  the  days  departed, 
You  bring  back  my  youth  of  passi 
And  the  beautiful  Wenonah  ! " 

Many  days  they  talked  together, 
Questioned,  listened,  waited,  answered; 
Much  the  mighty  Mudjekeewis 
Boasted  of  his  ancient  prowess, 
Of  his  perilous  adventures, 
His  indomitable  courage, 
His  invulnerable  body. 

Patiently  sat  Hiawatha, 
Listening  to  his  father's  boastm»; 
With  a  smile  he  sat  an  1  listeneu, 

VOL.    II.  17 


258  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Uttered  neither  threat  nor  menace, 
Neither  word  nor  look  betrayed  him, 
But  his  heart  was  hot  within  him, 
Like  a  living  coal  his  heart  was. 

Then  he  said,  "  O  Mudjekeewis, 
Is  there  nothing  that  can  harm  you  ? 
Nothing  that  you  are  afraid  of?  " 
And  the  mighty  Mudjekeewis, 
Grand  and  gracious  in  his  boasting, 
Answered,  saving,  "There  is  nothing, 
Nothing  but  the  black  rock  yonder, 
Nothing  but  the  fatal  Wawbeek  I" 

And  he  looked  at  Hiawatha 
With  a  wise  look  and  benignant, 
With  a  countenance  paternal, 
Looked  with  pride  upon  the  beauty 
Of  his  tall  and  graceful  figure, 
Saying,  "  O  my'lliawatha ! 
Is  there  any  thing  can  harm  you  ? 
Anything  you  are  afraid  of?  " 

But  the  wary  Hiawatha 
Paused  awhile,  as  if  uncertain, 
Held  his  peace,  as  if  resolving, 
And  then  answered,  "  There  is  nothing 
Nothing  but  the  bulrush  yonder, 
Nothing  but  the  great  Apukwa  I " 

And  as  Mudjekeewis,  rising, 
Stretched  his  hand  to  pluck  the  bulrush, 
Hiawatha  cried  in  terror, 
Cried  in  well-dissembled  terror, 
M  Kago !  kago  1  do  not  touch  it ! n 
M  Ah,  kaween ! "  said  Mudjekeewis, 
"  No  indeed,  I  will  not  touch  it !  " 

Then  they  talked  of  other  matters; 
First  of  Hiawatha's  brothers, 
First  of  Wabun,  of  the  East- Wind, 
Of  the  South- Wind,  Shawondasee. 
Of  the  North,  Kabibonokka  ; 
Then  of  Hiawatha's  mother, 


HIAWATHA   AND   MUDJEKEEWIS.  25* 

Of  the  beautiful  Wenonah, 
Of  her  birth  upon  the  meadow, 
Of  her  death,  as  old  Nokomis 
Had  remembered  and  related. 

And  he  cried,  "  O  Mudjekeewis, 
It  was  you  who  killed  Wenonah, 
Took  her  young  life  and  her  beauty, 
Broke  the  Lily  of  the  Prairie, 
Trampled  it  beneath  your  footsteps  ; 
You  confess  it !  you  confess  it ! " 
And  the  mighty  Mudjckeewis 
Tossed  upon  the  wind  his  tresses, 
Bowed  his  hoary  head  in  anguish, 
With  a  silent  nod  assented. 

Then  up  started  Iliawatha, 
And  with  threatening  look  and  gesture 
Laid  his  hand  upon  the  black  rock, 
On  the  fatal  "VVawbeek  laid  it, 
With  his  mittens,  Minjekahwun, 
Rent  the  jutting  crag  asunder, 
Smote  and  crushed  it  into  fragments, 
Hurled  them  madly  at  his  father, 
The  remorseful  Mudjekeewis, 
For  his  heart  was  hot  within  him, 
Like  a  living  coal  his  heart  was. 

But  the  ruler  of  the  West-Wind 
Blew  the  fragments  backward  from  him, 
With  the  breathing  of  his  nostrils, 
With  the  tempest  of  his  anger, 
Blew  them  back  at  his  assailant ; 
Seized  the  bulrush,  the  Apukwa, 
Dragged  it  with  its  roots  and  fibres 
From  the  margin  of  the  meadow, 
From  its  ooze,  the  giant  bulrush  ; 
Long  and  loud  laughed  Hiawatha  I 

Then  began  the  deadly  conflict, 
Hand  to  hand  among  the  mountains ; 
From  his  eyrie  screamed  the  eagle, 
The  Keneu,  the  great  war-eagle  ; 


260  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

Sat  upon  the  crags  around  them, 
Wheeling  (lapped  liis  wings  above  them. 

Like  a  tall  tree  in  the  tempest 
Bent  and  lashed  the  giant  bulrush  ; 
And  in  masses  husie  and  lu.-avv 
Crashing  fell  the  fatal  Wawbcck  ; 
Till  the  earth  shook  with  the  tumult 
And  confusion  of  the  battle, 
And  the  air  was  full  of  shoutings, 
And  the  thunder  of  the  mountains, 
Starting,  answered,  "  Baim-wawa!" 

Back  retreated  Mudjekeewis, 
Rushing  westward  o'er  the  mountains, 
Stumbling  westward  down  the  mountains, 
Three  whole  days  retreated  fighting, 
Still  pursued  by  Hiawatha 
To  the  doorways  of  the  AVcst-Wind, 
To  the  portals  of  the  Sunset, 
To  the  earth's  remotest  border, 
Where  into  the  empty  spaces 
Sinks  the  sun,  as  a  flamingo 
Drops  into  her  nest  at  nightfall, 
In  the  melancholy  marshes. 

"  Hold  !  "  at  length  cried  Mudjekeewis, 
"  Hold,  my  son,  my  Hiawatha  1 
'Tis  impossible  to  kill  me, 
For  you  cannot  kill  the  immortal. 
J  have  put  you  to  this  trial, 
But  to  know  and  prove  your  courage ; 
Now  receive  the  prize  of  valor ! 

"  Go  back  to  your  home  and  people, 
Live  among  them,  toil  among  them, 
Cleanse  the  earth  from  all  that  harms  it, 
Clear  the  fishing-grounds  and  rivers, 
Slay  all  monsters  and  magicians, 
All  the  Wemligoes,  the  giants, 
All  the  serpents,  the  Kenabecks, 
As  I  slew  the  Mishe-Mokwa, 
Blew  the  Great  Bear  of  the  mountains. 


HIAWATHA   AND    MUDJEKEETHS. 

"And  at  last  when  Death  draws  near  you, 
When  the  awful  eyes  of  Pauguk 
Glare  upon  you  in  the  darkness, 
I  will  share  my  kingdom  with  you, 
Ruler  shall  you  be  thenceforward 
Of  the  Northwest^ Wind,  Keewaydin, 
Of  the  home-wind,  the  Keewaydin." 

Thus  was  fought  that  famous  battle 
In  the  dreadful  days  of  Shah-shah, 
In  the  days  long  since  departed, 
In  the  kingdom  of  the  West- Wind. 
Still  the  hunter  sees  its  traces 
Scattered  far  o'er  hill  and  valley ; 
Sees  the  giant  bulrush  growing 
By  the  ponds  and  water-courses, 
Sees  the  masses  of  the  Wawbeek 
Lying  still  in  every  valley. 

Homeward  now  went  Hiawatha ; 
Pleasant  was  the  landscape  round  him, 
Pleasant  was  the  air  above  him, 
For  the  bitterness  of  anger 
Had  departed  wholly  from  him, 
From  his  brain  the  thought  of  vengeance, 
From  his  heart  the  burning  fever. 

Only  once  his  pace  he  slackened, 
Only  once  he  paused  or  halted, 
Paused  to  purchase  heads  of  arrows 
Of  the  ancient  Arrow-maker, 
In  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs, 
Where  the  Falls  of  Minnehaha 
Flash  and  gleam  among  the  oak-trees, 
Laugh  and  leap  into  the  valley. 

There  the  ancient  Arrow-maker 
Made  his  arrow-heads  of  sandstone, 
Arrow-heads  of  chalcedony, 
Arrow-heads  of  flint  and  jasper, 
Smoothed  and  sharpened  at  the  edges, 
Hard  and  polished,  keen  and  costly. 

With  him  dwelt  his  dark-eyed  daughter, 


262  TUB   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA, 

Wayward  as  the  Minnchaha, 
With  her  moods  of  shade  and  sunsbir*. 
Eyes  that  smiled  and  frowned  alternate 
Feet  as  rapid  as  the  river, 
Tresses  flowing  like  the  water, 
And  as  musical  a  laughter  ; 
And  he  named  her  from  the  river, 
From  the  water-fall  he  named  her, 
'  Minnehaha,  Laughing  Water. 

Was  it  then  for  heads  of  arrows, 
Arrow-heads  of  chalcedony, 
Arrow-heads  of  flint  and  jasper, 
That  my  Hiawatha  halted 
In  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs  ? 

Was  it  not  to  see  the  maiden, 
See  the  face  of  Laughing  Water 
Peeping  from  behind  the  curtain, 
Hear  the  rustling  of  her  garments 
From  behind  the  waving  curtain, 
As  one  sees  the  Minnehaha 
Gleaming,  glancing  through  the  branches, 
As  one  hears  the  Laughing  Water 
From  behind  its  screen  of  branches  ? 

Who  shall  say  what  thoughts  and  vision* 
Fill  the  fiery  brains  of  young  men  ? 
Who  shall  say  what  dreams  of  beauty 
Filled  the  heart  of  Hiawatha  ? 
All  he  told  to  old  Nokomis, 
When  he  reached  the  lodge  at  sunset, 
Was  the  meeting  with  his  father, 
Was  his  fight  with  Mudjekeewis ; 
Not  a  word  he  said  of  arrows, 
Vot  a  word  of  Laughing  Water  J 


V. 

HIAWATHA'S  FAS-TWO. 

You  shall  hear  how  Hiawatha 
Prayed  and  fasted  in  the  forest, 
Not  for  greater  skill  in  hunting, 
Not  for  greater  craft  in  fishing, 
Not  for  triumphs  in  the  battle, 
And  renown  among  the  warriors, 
But  for  profit  of  the  people, 
For  advantage  of  the  nations. 

First  he  built  a  lodge  for  fasting, 
Built  a  wigwam  in  the  forest, 
By  the  shining  Big-Sea-Water, 
Jn  the  blithe  and  pleasant  Spring-time, 
In  the  Moon  of  Leaves  he  built  it, 
And,  with  dreams  and  visions  many, 
Seven  whole  days  and  nights  he  fasted. 

On  the  first  day  of  his  fasting 
Through  the  leafy  woods  he  wandered ; 
Saw  the  deer  start  from  the  thicket, 
Saw  the  rabbit  in  his  burrow, 
Heard  the  pheasant,  Bena,  drumming, 
Heard  the  squirrel,  Adjidaumo, 
Rattling  in  his  hoard  of  acorns, 
Saw  the  pigeon,  the  Omeme, 
Building  nests  among  the  pine-trees, 
And  in  flocks  the  wild  goose,  "Wawa, 
Flying  to  the  fen-lands  northward, 
Whirring,  wailing  far  above  him. 
41  Master  of  Life ! "  he  cried,  desponding, 
"  Must  our  lives  depend  on  these  things  ?* 

On  the  next  day  of  his  fasting 
By  the  river's  brink  he  wandered, 
Through  the  Muskoday,  the  meadow, 


264  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Saw  the  wild  rice,  Mahnomonee, 

Saw  the  blueberry,  Meenahia, 

And  the  strawberry,  Odahinin, 

And  the  gooseberry,  Shahbomin, 

And  the  grape-vine,  the  Bemahgut, 

Trailing  o'er  the  alder-branches, 

Filling  all  the  air  with  fragrance  ! 

"  Master  of  Life ! "  he  cried,  desponding, 

"  Must  our  lives  depend  on  these  things  ? ' 

On  the  third  day  of  his  fasting 
By  the  lake  he  sat  and  pondered, 
By  the  still,  transparent  water ; 
Saw  the  sturgeon,  Nahina,  leaping, 
Scattering  drops  like  beads  of  wainpum, 
Saw  the  yellow  nerch,  the  Sahwa, 
Like  a  sunbeam  in  the  water, 
Saw  the  pike,  the  Maskenozha, 
And  the  herring,  Okahahwis, 
And  the  Shawgashec,  the  craw-fish ! 
"  Master  of  Life!  "  he  cried,  desponding, 
"  Must  our  lives  depend  on  these  things  ? 

On  the  fourth  day  of  his  fasting 
In  his  lodge  he  lay  exhausted  ; 
From  his  couch  of  leaves  and  branches 
Gazing  with  half-open  eyelids, 
Full  of  shadowy  dreams  and  visions, 
On  the  dizzy,  swimming  landscape, 
On  the  gleaming  of  the  water, 
On  the  splendor  of  the  sunsft. 

And  he  saw  a  youth  approaching, 
Dressed  in  garments  green  and  yellow, 
Coming  through  the  purple  twilight, 
Through  the  splendor  of  the  sunset; 
Plumes  of  g^reen  bent  o'er  his  forehead, 
And  his  hair  was  soft  and  golden. 

Standing  at  the  open  doorway, 
Long  he  looked  at  Hiawatha, 
Looked  with  pity  and  compassion 
On  his  wasted  form  and  features, 


HIAWATHA'S  FASTIXG.  265 

And,  in  accents  like  the  sighing 
Of  the  South-Wind  in  the  tree-tops, 
Said  he,  "  O  my  Hiawatha  ! 
All  your  prayers  are  heard  in  heaven, 
For  you  pray  not  like  the  others, 
Not  for  greater  skill  in  hunting, 
Not  for  greater  craft  in  fishing, 
Not  for  triumph  in  the  battle, 
Nor  renown  among  the  warriors, 
But  for  profit  of  the  people, 
For  advantage  of  the  nations. 

"  From  the  Master  of  Life  descending, 
I,  the  friend  of  man,  Mondamin, 
Come  to  warn  you  and  instruct  you, 
How  by  struggle  and  by  labor 
You  shall  gain  what  you  have  prayed  for. 
Rise  up  from  your  bed  of  branches, 
Rise,  O  youth,  and  wrestle  with  me  !  * 

Faint  with  famine,  Hiawatha 
Started  from  his  bed  of  branches. 
From  the  twilight  of  his  wigwam 
Forth  into  the  Hush  of  sunset 
Came,  and  wrestled  with  Mondamin  ; 
At  his  touch  he  felt  new  courage 
Throbbing  in  his  brain  and  bosom, 
Felt  new  life  and  hope  and  vigor 
Run  through  every  nerve  and  fibre. 

So  they  wrestled  there  together 
In  the  glory  of  the  sunset. 
And  the  more  they  strove  and  struggled. 
Stronger  still  grew  Hiawatha ; 
Till  the  darkness  fell  around  them, 
And  the  heron,  the  Shuh-slmh-gah, 
From  her  nest  .among  the  pine-trees, 
Gave  a  cry  of  lamentation, 
Gave  a  scream  of  pain  and  famine. 

"  'T  is  enough  ! "  then  said  Mondarain, 
Smiling  upon  Hiawatha, 
M  But  tb-ruorrow,  when  the  sun  sets, 


168  THE   SOXO   OF   HIAWATHA. 

I  will  come  again  to  try  you." 
And  he  vanished,  and  was  seen  not ; 
Whether  sinking  as  the  rain  sinks, 
Whether  rising  as  the  mists  rise, 
Hiawatha  saw  not,  knew  not, 
Only  saw  that  he  had  vanished, 
Leaving  him  alone  and  fainting, 
With  the  misty  lake  below  him, 
And  the  reeling  stars  above  him. 

On  the  morrow  and  the  next  day, 
When  the  sun  through  heaven  descending, 
Like  a  red  and  burning  cinder, 
From  the  hearth  of  the  Great  Spirit, 
Fell  into  the  western  waters, 
Came  Mondamin  for  the  trial, 
F«r  the  strife  with  Hiawatha ; 
Came  as  silent  as  the  dew  comes, 
From  the  empty  air  appearing, 
Into  empty  air  returning, 
Taking  shape  when  earth  it  touches, 
But  invisible  to  all  men 
In  its  coming  and  its  going. 

Thrice  they  wrestled  there  together 
In  the  glory  of  the  sunset, 
Till  the  darkness  fell  around  them, 
Till  the  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From  her  nest  among  the  pine-trees, 
Uttered  her  loud  cry  of  famine, 
And  Mondamin  paused  to  listen. 

Tall  and  beautiful  he  stood  there, 
In  his  garments  green  and  yellow  5 
To  and  fro  his  plumes  above  him 
Waved  and  nodded  with  his  breathing. 
And  the  sweat  of  the  encounter 
Stood  like  drops  of  dew  upon  him. 

And  he  cried,  "  O  Hiawatha  ! 
Uravely  have  you  wrestled  with  me, 
Thrice  have  wrestled  stoutly  with  me, 
And  the  Master  of  Life,  who  sees  us, 
He  will  give  to  you  the  triumph  1  * 


HIAWATHA'S  FASTING.  267 

Hicn  he  smiled,  and  said :     "  Tomorrow 
Is  the  last  day  of  your  conflict, 
Is  the  last  day  of  your  fasting. 
You  will  conquer  and  o'ercome  me ; 
Make  a  bed  for  me  to  lie  in, 
Where  the  rain  may  fall  upon  me, 
Where  the  sun  may  come  and  warm  me ; 
Strip  these  garments,  green  and  yellow, 
Strip  this  nodding  plumage  from  me, 
Lay  me  in  the  earth,  and  make  it 
Soft  and  loose  and  light  above  me. 

"  Let  no  hand  disturb  my  slumber, 
Let  no  weed  nor  worm  molest  me, 
Let  not  Kahgahgee,  the  raven, 
Come  to  haunt  me  and  molest  me, 
Only  come  yourself  to  watch  me, 
Till  I  wake,  and  start,  and  quicken, 
Till  I  leap  into  the  sunshine." 

And  thus  saying,  he  departed ; 
Peacefully  slept  Hiawatha, 
But  he  heard  the  Wawonaissa, 
Heard  the  whippoorwill  complaining, 
Perched  upon  his  lonely  wigwam ; 
Heard  the  rushing  Sebowisha, 
Heard  the  rivulet  rippling  near  him, 
Talking  to  the  darksome  forest; 
Heard  the  sighing  of  the  branches, 
As  they  lifted  and  subsided 
At  the"  passing  of  the  night-wind, 
Heard  them,  as  one  hears  in  slumber 
Far-oil' murmurs,  dreamy  whispers: 
Peacefully  slept  Hiawatha. 

On  the  morrow  came  Nokomis, 
On  the  seventh  day  of  his  fasting, 
Came  with  food  for  Hiawatha, 
Came  imploring  and  bewailing, 
Lest  his  hunger  should  o'ercome  him, 
Lest  his  fasting  should  be  fatal. 

But  he  tasted  not,  and  touched  not, 


268  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Only  saiil  to  her,  "Xokomis, 
Wait  until  the  sun  is  setting, 
Till  the  darkness  falls  around  us, 
Till  the  heron,  the,  Shuh-shuh-gali, 
Crying  from  the  desolate  marshes, 
Tells  us  that  the  day  is  ended." 

Homeward  weeping  went  Nokomis, 
Sorrowing  for  her  Hiawatha, 
Fearing  lest  his  strength  should  fail  him, 
Lest  his  fasting  should  be  fatal. 
He  meanwhile  sat  weary  waiting 
For  the  eoniing  of  Mondamin, 
Till  the  shadows,  pointing  eastward, 
Lengthened  over  field  and  forest, 
Till  the  sun  dropped  from  the  heaven, 
Floating  on  the  waters  westward, 
As  a  red  leaf  in  the  Autumn 
Falls  and  floats  upon  the  water, 
Falls  and  sinks  into  its  bosom. 

And  behold  !  the  young  Mondamin, 
With  his  soft  and  shining  tresses, 
With  his  garments  green  and  yellow, 
With  his  long  and  glossy  plumage, 
Stood  and  beekoncd  at  the  doorway. 
And  as  one  in  slumber  walking, 
Pale  and  haggard,  but  undaunted, 
From  the  wigwam  Hiawatha 
Came  and  wrestled  with  Mondamin. 

Round  about  him  spun  the  landscape, 
Sky  and  forest  reeled  together, 
And  his  strong  heart  leaped  within  him, 
As  the  sturgeon  leaps  and  struggles 
In  a  net  to  Weak  itd  meshes. 
Like  a  ring  of  fire  around  him 
Blazed  and  flared  the  red  horizon, 
And  a  hundred  suns  seemed  looking 
At  the  combat  of  the  wrestlers. 

Suddenly  upon  the  greensward 
All  alone  stood  Hiawatha, 


HIAWATHA'S  FASTING.  269 

Panting  with  his  wild  exertion, 
Palpitating  with  the  struggle  ; 
And  before  him,  breathless,  lifeless, 
Lay  the  youth,  with  hair  dishevelled, 
Plumage  torn,  and  garments  tattered, 
Dead  he  lay  there  in  the  sunset. 

And  victorious  Hiawatha 
Made  the  grave  as  he  commanded, 
Stripped  the  garments  from  Mpndamin, 
Stripped  his  tattered  plumage  from  him, 
Laid  him  in  the  earth,  and  made  it 
Soft  and  loose  and  light  above  him ; 
And  the  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From  the  melancholy  moorlands, 
Gave  a  cry  ot'lamentation, 
Gave  a  cry  of  pain  and  anguish! 

Homeward  then  went  Hiawatha 
To  the  lodge  of  old  Nokomis, 
And  the  seven  days  of  his  lasting 
Were  accomplished  and  completed, 
But  the  place  was  not  forgotten 
Where  he  wrestled  with  Mondamin ; 
Nor  forgotten  nor  neglected 
Was  the  grave  where  lay  Mondamin, 
Sleeping  in  the  rain  and  sunshine, 
Where  his  scattered  plumes  and  garment* 
Faded  in  the  rain  and  sunshine. 

Day  by  day  did  Hiawatha 
Go  to  wait  and  watch  beside  it ; 
Kept  the  dark  mould  soft  above  it, 
Kept  it  clean  from  weeds  and  insects, 
Drove  away,  with  scofl's  and  shoutings, 
Kahgahgee,  the  king  of  ravens. 

Till  at  length  a  small  green  feather 
From  the  earth  shot  slowly  upward, 
Then  another  and  another, 
And  before  the  Summer  ended 
Stood  the  maize  in  all  its  beauty, 
With  its  shining  robes  about  it, 


270  THE   SONG    OF   HIAWAT1IA. 

And  its  long,  soft,  yellow  tresses ; 
And  in  rapture  Hiawatha 
Cried  aloud,  "  It  is  Mondamin  ! 
Yea,  the  friend  of  man,  Mondamin  1 " 

Then  he  called  to  old  Nokomis 
And  lagoo,  the  great  boaster, 
Showed  them  where  the  maize  was  growing, 
Told  them  of  his  wondrous  vision, 
Of  his  wrestling  and  his  triumph, 
Of  this  new  gift  to  the  nations, 
Which  should  be  their  food  forever. 

And  still  later,  when  the  Autumn 
Changed  the  long,  green  leaves  to  yellow, 
And  the  soft  and  juicy  kernels 
Grew  like  wampum  hard  and  yellow, 
Then  the  ripened  ears  he  gathered, 
Stripped  the  withered  husks  from  off  them, 
As  he  once  had  stripped  the  wrestler, 
Gave  the  first  Feast  of  Mondamin, 
And  made  known  unto  the  people 
This  new  gift  of  the  Great  Spirit 


VI 

HIAWATHA'S  FRIENDS. 

Two  good  friends  had  Hiawatha, 

Singled  out  from  all  the  others, 

Bound  to  him  in  closest  union, 

And  to  whom  he  gave  the  right  hand 

Of  his  heart,  in  joy  and  sorrow ; 

Chibiabos,  the  musician, 

And  the  very  strong  man,  Kwasind. 

Straight  between  them  ran  the  pathway, 
Never  grew  the  grass  upon  it ; 
Singing  birds,  that  utter  falsehoods, 
Story-tellers,  mischief-makers, 
Found  no  eager  ear  to  listen, 
Could  not  breed  ill-will  between  them, 
For  they  kept  each  other's  counsel, 
Spake  with  naked  hearts  together, 
Pondering  much  and  much  contriving 
How  the  tribes  of  men  might  prosper. 

Most  beloved  by  Hiawatha 
Was  the  gentle  Chibiabos, 
He  the  best  of  all  musicians, 
He  the  sAveetest  of  all  singers. 
Beautiful  and  childlike  was  he, 
Brave  as  man  is,  soft  as  woman, 
Pliant  as  a  wand  of  willow, 
Stately  as  a  deer  with  antlers. 

When  he  sang,  the  village  listened ; 
All  the  warriors  gathered  round  him, 
All  the  women  came  to  hear  him ; 
Now  he  stirred  their  souls  to  passion, 
Now  he  melted  them  to  pity. 

From  the  hollow  reeds  he  fashioned 
Flutes  so  musical  and  mellow, 


272  THE   SONG    OF   HIAWATHA. 

That  the  brook,  the  Sebowisha, 
Ceased  to  murmur  in  the  woodland, 
That  the  wood-birds  ceased  from  singinj 
And  the  squirrel,  Adjidaunao, 
Coasi-d  his  chatter  in  the  oak-tree, 
And  the  rabbit,  the  Wabas>o, 
Sat  upright  to  look  and  listen. 

Yes,  the  brook,  the.  Sebowisha, 
Pausing,  said,  "  O  Chibiabos, 
Teach  my  waves  to  How  in  music, 
Softly  as  your  words  in  singing  !  " 

Yes,  the  blue-bird,  the  Owaissa, 
Envious,  said,  "  O  Chibiabos, 
Teach  me  tones  as  wild  and  wayward, 
Teach  me  songs  as  full  of  frenzy ! " 

Yes,  the  robin,  the  Opechce, 
Joyous,  said,  "  O  Chibiabos, 
Teach  me  tones  as  sweet  and  tender, 
Teach  me  songs  as  full  of  gladness  !  " 

And  the  whippoorwill,  Wawonaissa.. 
Sobbing,  said,  "  O  Chibiabos, 
Teach  me  tones  as  melancholy, 
Teach  me  songs  as  full  of  sadness  !" 

All  the  many  sounds  of  nature 
Borrowed  sweetness  from  his  singing  5 
All  the  hearts  of  men  were  softened 
By  the  pathos  of  his  music  ; 
For  he  sang  of  peace  and  freedom, 
Sang  of  beauty,  love,  and  longing; 
Sang  of  death,  and  life  undying 
Jn  the  Islands  of  the  BlaMO, 
In  the  kingdom  of  I'onemah, 
Jn  the  land  of  the  Hereafter. 

V.-ry  dear  to  Hiawatha 
Was  the  gentle  Chibiabos, 
He  the  best  of  all  musicians, 
He  the  sweetest  of  all  singers; 
For  his  gentleness  he  loved  him, 
And  the  magic  of  his  singing. 


HIAWATHA'S  FRIENDS.  278 

Dear,  too,  unto  Hiawatha 
Was  the  very  strong  man,  Kwasind, 
lie  the  strongest  of  all  mortals, 
He  the  mightiest  among  many; 
For  his  very  strength  he  loved  him, 
For  his  strength  allied  to  goodness. 

Idle  in  his  youth  was  Kwasind, 
Very  listless,  dull,  and  dreamy, 
Never  played  with  other  children, 
Never  fished  and  never  hunted, 
Not  like  other  children  was  he  ; 
But  they  saw  that  much  he  fasted, 
Much  his  Manito  entreated, 
Much  besought  his  Guardian  Spirit 

"  Lazy  Kwasind  ! "  said  his  mother, 
"  In  my  work  you  never  help  me  1 
In  the  Summer  you  are  roaming 
Idly  in  the  fields  and  forests ; 
In  the  Winter  you  are  cowering 
O'er  the  firebrands  in  the  wigwam ! 
In  the  coldest  days  of  Winter 
I  must  break  the  ice  for  fishing ; 
With  my  nets  you  never  help  me  ! 
At  the  door  my  nets  are  hanging, 
Dripping,  freezing  with  the  water ; 
Go  and  wring  them,  Yenadizze  ! 
Go  and  dry  them  in  the  sunshine  I " 

Slowly,  from  the  ashes,  Kwasind 
Rose,  but  made  no  angry  answer ; 
From  the  lodge  went  forth  in  silence, 
Took  the  nets,  that  hung  together, 
Dripping,  freezing  at  the  doorway, 
Like  a  wisp  of  straw  he  wrung  them, 
Like  a  wisp  of  straw  he  broke  them, 
Could  not  wring  them  without  breaking, 
Such  the  strength  was  in  his  fingers. 

"  Lazy  Kwasind  ! "  said  his  father, 
"  In  the  hunt  you  never  help  me ; 
Every  bow  you  touch  is  broken, 

VOL  II.  18 


274  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Snapped  asunder  every  arrow ; 
Yet  come  with  me  to  the  forest, 
You  shall  bring  the  hunting  homeward." 

Down  a  narrow  pass  they  wandered, 
Where  a  brooklet  led  them  onward, 
Where  the  trail  of  deer  and  bison 
Marked  the  soft  mud  on  the  margin, 
Till  they  found  all  further  passage 
Shut  against  them,  barred  securely 
By  the  trunks  of  trees  uprooted, 
Lying  lengthwise,  lying  crosswise, 
And  forbidding  further  passage. 

"  We  must  go  back,"  said  the  old  man, 
"  O'er  these  logs  we  cannot  clamber ; 
Not  a  woodchuck  could  get  through  them, 
Not  a  squirrel  clamber  o'er  them  I " 
And  straightway  his  pipe  he  lighted, 
And  sat  down  to  smoke  and  ponder. 
But  before  his  pipe  was  finished, 
Lo !  the  path  was  cleared  before  him ; 
All  the  trunks  had  Kwasind  lifted, 
To  the  right  hand,  to  the  left  hand, 
Shot  the  pine-trees  swift  as  arrows, 
Hurled  the  cedars  light  as  lances. 

"  Lazy  Kwasind ! "  said  the  young  men. 
As  they  sported  in  the  meadow  ; 
"  Why"  stand  idly  looking  at  us, 
Leaning  on  the  rock  behind  you  ? 
Come  and  wrestle  with  the  others, 
Let  us  pitch  the  quoit  together ! " 

Lazy  Kwasind  made  no  answer, 
To  their  challenge  made  no  answer, 
Only  rose,  and,  slowly  turning, 
Seized  the  huge  rock  in  his  fingers, 
Tore  it  from  its  deep  foundation, 
Poised  it  in  the  air  a  moment, 
Pitched  it  sheer  into  the  river, 
Sheer  into  the  swift  Pauwating, 
Where  it  still  is  seen  in  Summer. 


HIAWATHA'S  FRIENDS.  275 

Once  as  down  that  foaming  river, 
Down  the  rapids  of  Pauwating, 
Kwasind  sailed  with  his  companions, 
In  the  stream  he  saw  a  beaver, 
Saw  Ahmeek,  the  King  of  Beavers, 
Struggling  with  the  rushing  currents, 
Rising,  sinking  in  the  water. 

Without  speaking,  without  pausing, 
Kwasind  leaped  into  the  river, 
Plunged  beneath  the  bubbling  surface, 
Through  the  whirlpools  chased  the  beaver, 
Followed  him  among  the  islands, 
Stayed  so  Ion"  beneath  the  water, 
That  his  terrified  companions 
Cried,  "  Alas  !  good  bye  to  Kwasind  I 
We  shall  never  more  see  Kwasind  ! " 
But  he  reappeared  triumphant, 
And  upon  his  shining  shoulders 
Brought  the  beaver,  dead  and  dripping, 
Brought  the  King  of  all  the  Beavers. 

And  these  two,  as  I  have  told  you, 
Were  the  friends  of  Hiawatha, 
Chibiabos,  the  musician, 
And  the  very  strong  man,  Kwasind. 
Long  they  lived  in  peace  together, 
Spake  with  naked  hearts  together, 
Pondering  much  and  much  contriving 
How  the  tribes  of  men  might  prosper. 


vn 

HIAWATHA'S  BAILING. 

4  GIVE  me  of  your  bark,  O  Birch-Tree  I 
Of  your  yellow  bark,  O  Birch-Tree  I 
Growing  by  the  rushing  river, 
Tall  and  stately  in  the  valley  1 
I  a  light  canoe  will  build  me, 
Build  a  swift  Cheemaun  for  sailing, 
That  shall  float  upon  the  river, 
Like  a  yellow  leaf  in  Autumn, 
Like  a  yellow  water-lily  1 

"  Lay  aside  your  cloak,  O  Birch-Tree  1 
Lay  aside  your  white-skin  wrapper, 
For  the  Summer-time  is  coming, 
And  the  sun  is  warm  in  heaven, 
And  you  need  no  white-skin  wrapper  1  * 

Thus  aloud  cried  Iliawatha 
In  the  solitary  forest, 
By  the  rushing  Taquamcnaw, 
When  the  birds  were  singing  gayly, 
In  the  Moon  of  Leaves  were  singing, 
And  the  sun,  from  sleep  awaking, 
Started  up  and  said,  "  Behold  me  1 
Geezis,  the  great  Sun,  behold  me  ! " 

And  the  tree  with  all  its  branches 
Rustled  in  the  breeze  of  morning, 
Saying,  with  a  sigh  of  patience, 
"  Take  my  cloak,  O  Iliawatha  ! " 

With  his  knife  the  tree  he  girdled  ; 
Just  beneath  its  lowest  branches, 
Just  above  the  roots,  he  cut  it, 
Till  the  sap  came  oozing  outward  ; 
Down  the  trunk,  from  top  to  bottom, 
Sheer  he  cleft  the  bark  asunder, 
(27<V 


HIAWATHA'S  SAILING.  277 

With  a  wooden  wedge  he  raised  it, 
Stripped  it  from  the  trunk  unbroken. 

"  Give  me  of  your  boughs,  O  Cedar  I 
Of  your  strong  and  pliant  branches, 
My  canoe  to  make  more  steady, 
Make  more  strong  and  firm  beneath  me  I  * 

Through  the  summit  of  the  Cedar 
Went  a  sound,  a  cry  of  horror, 
Went  a  murmur  of  resistance ; 
But  it  whispered,  bending  downward, 
"  Take  my  boughs,  O  Hiawatha  ! " 

Down  he  hewed  the  boughs  of  cedar, 
Shaped  them  straightway  to  a  framework, 
Like  two  bows  he  formed  and  shaped  them, 
Like  two  bended  bows  together. 

"  Give  me  of  your  roots,  O  Tamarack  I 
Of  your  fibrous  roots,  O  Larch-Tree ! 
My  canoe  to  bind  together, 
So  to  bind  the  ends  together 
That  the  water  may  not  enter, 
That  the  river  may  not  wet  me ! " 

And  the  Larch,  with  all  its  fibres, 
Shivered  in  the  air  of  morning, 
Touched  his  forehead  with  its  tassels, 
Said,  with  one  Ion"  sigh  of  sorrow, 
•«  Take  them  all,  O  Hiawatha  !  " 

From  the  earth  he  tore  the  fibres, 
Tore  the  tough  roots  of  the  Larch-Tree, 
Closely  sewed  the  bark  together, 
Bound  it  closely  to  the  framework. 

"  Give  me  of  your  balm,  O  Fir-Tree ! 
Of  your  balsam  and  your  resin, 
So  to  close  the  seams  together 
That  the  water  may  not  enter, 
That  the  river  may  not  wet  me !  " 

And  the  Fir-Tree,  tall  and  sombre, 
Sobbed  through  all  its  robes  of  darkness, 
Rattled  like  a  shore  with  pebbles, 
Ajiswered  wailing,  answered  weeping, 


278  THE   SONG   OK    HIAWATHA. 

u  Take  my  balm,  O  Hiawatha  !  " 

And  he  took  the  tears  of  balsam, 
Took  the  resin  of  the  Fir-Tree, 
Smeared  therewith  each  seam  and  fissure, 
Made  each  creviee  safe  from  water. 

"  Give  me  of  your  quills,  O  Hedgehog! 
All  your  quills,  O  Kagh,  the  Hedgehog! 
I  will  make  a  necklace  of  them, 
Make  a  girdle  for  my  beauty, 
And  two  stars  to  deck  her  bosom ! " 

From  a  hollow  tree  the  Hedgehog 
With  his  sleepy  eyes  looked  at  him, 
Shot  his  shining  quills,  like  arrows, 
Saying,  with  a  drowsy  murmur, 
Through  the  tangle  of  his  whiskers, 
"  Take  my  quills,  O  Hiawatha  !  " 

From  the  ground  the  quills  he  gathered, 
All  the  little  shining  arrows, 
Stained  them  red  and  blue  and  yellow, 
With  the  juice  of  roots  and  berries ; 
Into  his  canoe  he  wrought  them, 
Round  its  waist  a  shining  girdle, 
Round  its  bows  a  gleaming  necklace, 
On  its  breast  two  stars  resplendent. 

Thus  the  Birch  Canoe  was  builded 
In  the  valley,  by  the  river, 
In  the  bosom  of  the  forest ; 
And  the  forest's  life  was  in  it, 
All  its  mystery  and  its  magic, 
All  the  lightness  of  the  birch-tree, 
All  the  toughness  of  the  cedar, 
All  the  larch's  supple  sinews; 
And  it  floated  on  the  river 
Like  a  yellow  leaf  in  Autumn, 
Like  a  yellow  water-lily. 

Paddles  none  had  Hiawatha, 
Paddles  none  he  had  or  needed, 
For  his  thoughts  as  paddles  served  him, 
And  his  wishes  served  to  guide  him  ; 


HIAWATHA'S  SAIUXQ.  279 

Swift  or  slow  at  will  lie  glided, 
Veered  to  right  or  left  at  pleasure. 

Then  he  called  aloud  to  Kwasind, 
To  his  friend,  the  strong  man,  Kwasind, 
Saying,  "  Help  me  clear  this  river 
Of  its  sunken  logs  and  sand-bars." 

Straight  into  the  river  Kwasind 
Plunged  as  if  he  were  an  otter, 
Dived  as  if  he  were  a  beaver, 
Stood  up  to  his  waist  in  water, 
To  his  arm-pits  in  the  river, 
Swam  and  shouted  in  the  river, 
Tugged  at  sunken  logs  and  branches, 
"With  his  hands  he  scooped  the  sand-bars, 
With  his  feet  the  ooze  and  tangle. 

And  thus  sailed  my  Hiawatha 
Down  the  rushing  Taquamenaw, 
Sailed  through  all  its  bends  and  windings, 
Sailed  through  all  its  deeps  and  shallows, 
While  his  friend,  the  strong  man,  Kwasind 
Swam  the  deeps,  the  shallows  waded. 

Up  and  down  the  river  went  they, 
In  and  out  among  its  islands, 
Cleared  its  bed  of  root  and  sand-bar, 
Dragged  the  dead  trees  from  its  channel, 
Made  its  passage  safe  and  certain, 
Made  a  pathway  for  the  people, 
From  its  springs  among  the  mountains, 
To  the  waters  of  PauAvating, 
To  the  bay  of  Taquamenaw. 


vm. 

HIAWATHA'S  FISHUJQ. 

FORTH  upon  the  Gitche  Gumee, 
On  the  shining  Big-Sea-Water, 
With  his  fishing-line  of  cedar, 
Of  the  twisted  bark  of  cedar, 
Forth  to  catch  the  sturgeon  Nahma, 
Mishe-Nahina,  King  of  Fishes, 
In  his  birch  canoe  exulting 
All  alone  went  Hiawatha. 

Through  the  clear,  transparent  water 
He  could  see  the  fishes  swimming 
Far  down  in  the  depths  below  him ; 
See  the  yellow  perch,  the  Sahwa, 
Like  a  sunbeam  in  the  water, 
See  the  Shawgashee,  the  craw-fish, 
Like  a  spider  on  the  bottom, 
On  the  white  and  sandy  bottom. 

At  the  stern  sat  Hiawatha, 
With  his  fishing-line  of  cedar; 
In  his  plumes  the  breeze  of  morning 
Played  as  in  the  hemlock  branches ; 
On  the  bows,  with  fcvil  erected, 
Sat  the  squirrel,  Adjidannio  ; 
In  his  fur  the  breeze  of  morning 
Played  as  in  the  prairie  grasses. 

On  the  white  sand  of  the  bottom 
Lay  the  monster  Mishe-Xahma, 
Lay  the  sturgeon,  King  of  Fishes  ; 
Through  his  gills  he  breathed  the  water, 
With  his  fins  he  fanned  and  winnowed, 
With  his  tail  he  swept  the  sand-floor. 

There  he  lay  in  all  his  armor ; 
On  each  side  a  shield  to  guard  him, 


HIAWATHA'S  FISHING.  281 

Plates  of  bone  upon  his  forehead, 
Down  his  sides  and  back  and  shoulders 
Plates  of  bone  with  spines  projecting  1 
Painted  was  he  with  his  war-paints, 
Stripes  of  yellow,  red,  and  azure, 
Spots  of  brown  and  spots  of  sable ; 
And  he  lay  there  on  the  bottom, 
Fanning  with  his  fins  of  purple, 
As  above  him  Hiawatha 
In  his  birch  canoe  came  sailing, 
With  his  fishing  line  of  cedar. 

"  Take  my  bait !  "  cried  Hiawatha, 
Down  into  the  depths  beneath  him, 
"  Take  my  bait,  O  Sturgeon,  Nahma  I 
Come  up  from  below  the  water, 
Let  us  see  which  is  the  stronger ! " 
And  he  dropped  his  line  of  cedar 
Through  the  clear,  transparent  water, 
Waited  vainly  for  an  answer, 
Long  sat  waiting  for  an  answer, 
And  repeating  loud  and  louder, 
"  Take  my  bait,  O  King  of  Fishes !  " 

Quiet  lay  the  sturgeon,  Nahma, 
Fanning  slowly  in  the  water, 
Looking  up  at  Hiawatha, 
Listening  to  his  call  and  clamor, 
His  unnecessary  tumult, 
Till  he  wearied  of  the  shouting ; 
And  he  said  to  the  Kenozha, 
To  the  pike,  the  Maskcnozha, 

Take  the  bait  of  this  rude  fellow, 
Break  the  line  of  Hiawatha !  " 

In  his  fingers  Hiawatha 
Felt  the  loose  line  jerk  and  tighten ; 
As  he  drew  it  in,  it  tugged  so 
That  the  birch  canoe  stood  endwise, 
Like  a  birch  log  in  the  water, 
With  the  squirrel,  Adjidaiuno, 
Perched  and  frisking  on  the  summit 


282  THE   SOXG    OF   IIIAWATHA. 

Full  of  scorn  was  Hiawatha 
When  he  saw  the  fish  rise  upward, 
Saw  the  pike,  the  Maskenozha, 
Coining  nearer,  nearer  to  him, 
And  he  shouted  through  the  water, 
*'  Esa  !  esa  !  shame  upon  you  ! 
You  are  but  the  pike,  Kenozha, 
You  are  not  the  fish  I  wanted, 
You  are  not  the  King  of  Fishes ! " 

Reeling  downward  to  the  bottom 
Sank  the  pike  in  great  confusion, 
And  the  mighty  sturgeon,  Nahma, 
Said  to  Ugudwash,  the  sun-fish, 
To  the  bream,  with  scales  of  crimson, 
"  Take  the  bait  of  this  great  boaster, 
Break  the  line  of  Hiawatha  ! " 

Slowly  upward,  wavering,  gleaming, 
Rose  the  UguJwash,  the  sun-fish, 
Seized  the  line  of  Hiawatha, 
Swung  with  all  his  wc-ight  upon  it, 
Made  a  whirlpool  in  the  water, 
Whirled  the  birch  canoe  in  circles, 
Round  and  round  in  gurgling  eddies, 
Till  the  circles  in  the  water 
Reached  the  far-ofl'  sandy  beaches, 
Till  the  water-flags  and  rushes 
Nodded  on  the  distant  margins. 

But  when  Hiawatha  saw  him 
Slowly  rising  through  the  water, 
Lifting  up  las  disk  refulgent, 
Loud  he  shouted  in  derision, 
"  Esa!  esa !  shame  upon  you  ! 
You  are  Ugudwash,  the  sun-fish, 
You  are  not  the  fish  I  wanted, 
You  are  not  the  King  of  Fishes  !  " 
Slowly  downward,  wavering,  gleaming, 
Sank   .ne  Ugudwash,  the  sun-fish, 
And  a^ain  the  sturgeon,  Nahma, 
Heard  the  shout  of  Hiawatha. 


HIAWATHA'S  FISHINO.  28S 

Heard  his  challenge  of  defiance, 
The  unnecessary  tumult, 
Kinging  far  across  the  water. 

From  the  white  sand  of  the  bottom 
Up  he  rose  with  angry  gesture, 
Quivering  in  each  nerve  and  fibre, 
Clashing  all  his  plates  of  armor, 
Gleaming  bright  with  all  his  war-paint; 
In  his  wrath  he  darted  upward, 
Flashing  leaped  into  the  sunshine, 
Opened  his  great  jaws,  and  swallowed 
Both  canoe  and  Hiawatha. 

Down  into  that  darksome  cavern 
Plunged  the  headlong  Hiawatha, 
As  a  log  on  some  black  river 
Shoots  and  plunges  down  the  rapids, 
Found  himself  in  utter  darkness, 
Groped  about  in  helpless  wonder, 
Till  he  felt  a  great  heart  beating, 
Throbbing  in  that  utter  darkness. 

And  he  smote  it  in  his  anger, 
With  his  fist,  the  heart  of  Nahma, 
Felt  the  mighty  King  of  Fishes 
Shudder  through  each  nerve  and  fibre, 
Heard  the  water  gurgle  round  him 
As  he  leaped  and  staggered  through  it, 
Sick  at  heart,  and  faint  and  weary. 

Crosswise  then  did  Hiawatha 
Drag  his  birch-canoe  for  safety, 
Lest  from  out  the  jaws  of  Nahma, 
In  the  turmoil  and  confusion, 
Forth  he  might  be  hurled  and  perish. 
And  the  squirrel,  Adjidaumo, 
Frisked  and  chattered  very  gayly, 
Toiled  and  tugged  with  Hiawatha 
Till  the  labor  was  completed. 

Then  said  Hiawatha  to  him, 
"  O  my  little  friend,  the  squirrel, 
Bravely  have  you  toiled  to  help  me  • 


284  THE   80XG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

Tafce  tht  \hanks  of  Hiawatha, 

And  the  name  which  now  he  gives  you; 

For  hereafter  and  forever 

Boys  shall  call  you  Adjidaumo, 

Tail-in-air  the  boys  slull  call  you!" 

And  again  the  sturgeon,  Nalnna, 
Gasped  and  quivered  in  the  water, 
Then  was  still,  and  drifted  landward 
Till  he  grated  on  the  pebbles, 
Till  the  listening  Hiawatha 
Heard  him  grate  upon  the  margin, 
Felt  him  strand  upon  the  pebbles, 
Knew  that  Nahma,  King  of  Fishes, 
Lay  there  dead  upon  the  margin. 

Then  he  heard  a  clang  and  (lapping, 
As  of  many  wings  RflSemblins, 
Heard  a  screaming  and  confusion, 
As  of  birds  of  prey  contending, 
Saw  a  gleam  of  light  above  him, 
Shining  through  the  ribs  of  Nahma, 
Saw  the  glittering  eyes  of  sea-gulls, 
Of  Kayosnk,  the  sea-gulls,  peering, 
Gazing  at  him  through  the  opening, 
Heard  them  saying  to  each  other, 
"  'T  is  our  brother,  Hiawatha  !  " 

And  he  shouted  from  below  them, 
Cried  exulting  from  the  caverns  : 
"  O  ye  sea-gulls  !  O  my  brothers  ! 
I  have  slain  the  sturgeon,  Nalnna ; 
Make  the  rifts  a  little  larger, 
With  your  claws  the  openings  widen, 
Set  me  free  from  this  dark  prison, 
And  henceforward  and  forever 
Men  shall  speak  of  your  achievements, 
Calling  you  Kayoshk,  the  sea-gulls, 
Yes,  Kayoshk,  the  Noble  Scratchers !  * 

And  the  wild  and  clamorous  sea-gulla 
Toiled  with  beak  and  claws  together, 
Made  the  rifts  and  openings  wider 


HIAWATHA'S  FISHING 

In  the  mighty  ribs  of  Nahma, 
And  from  peril  and  from  prison, 
From  the  body  of  the  sturgeon, 
From  the  peril  of  the  water, 
They  released  my  Hiawatha. 

He  was  standing  near  his  wigwam 
On  the  margin  of  the  water, 
And  he  called  to  old  Nokomis, 
Called  and  beckoned  to  Nokomis, 
Pointed  to  the  sturgeon,  Nahma, 
Lying  lifeless  on  the  pebbles, 
With  the  sea-gulls  feeding  on  him. 

« I  have  slain  the  Mishe-Nahma, 
Slain  the  King  of  Fishes  !  "  said  he  ; 
"  Look !  the  sea-gulls  feed  upon  him, 
Yes,  my  friend  Kayoshk,  the  sea-gulls 
Drive  them  not  away,  Nokomis, 
They  have  saved  me  from  great  peril 
In  the  body  of  the  sturgeon, 
Wait  until  their  meal  is  ended, 
Till  their  craws  are  full  with  feasting, 
Till  they  homeward  fly,  at  sunset, 
To  their  nests  among  the  marshes ; 
Then  bring  all  your  pots  and  kettles, 
And  make  oil  for  us  in  Winter." 

And  she  waited  till  the  sun  set, 
Till  the  pallid  moon,  the  night-sun, 
Rose  above  the  tranquil  water, 
Till  Kayoshk,  the  sated  sea-gulls, 
From  their  banquet  rose  with  clamor, 
And  across  the  fiery  sunset 
Winged  their  way  to  far-off  islands, 
To  their  nests  among  the  rushes. 

To  his  sleep  went  Hiawatha, 
And  Nokomis  to  her  labor, 
Toiling  patient  in  the  moonlight, 
Till  the  sun  and  moon  changed  places, 
Till  the  sky  was  red  with  sunrise, 
And  Kayoshk,  the  hungry  sea-gulls, 


286  THE   8OXG   OF   JIAWATHA. 

Came  back  from  the  reedy  islands, 
Clamorous  for  their  morning  banquet. 

Three  whole  days  and  nights  alternate 
Old  Nokomis  and  the  sea-mills 
Stripped  the  oily  flesh  of  Jfahma, 
Till  the  waves  washed  through  the  rib-bonet, 
Till  the  sea-gulls  came  no  longer, 
And  upon  the  sand*  lay  nothing 
But  the  skeleton  of  Nahma. 


IX. 

HIAWATHA   AND   THE   PEARL-FEATH**. 

ON  the  shores  of  Gitche  Gumee, 
Of  the  shining  Big- Sea- Water, 
Stood  Nokomis,  the  old  woman, 
Pointing  with  her  finger  westward, 
O'er  the  water  pointing  westward, 
To  the  purple  clouds  of  sunset. 

Fiercely  the  red  sun  descending 
Burned  his  way  along  the  heavens, 
Set  the  sky  on  fire  behind  him, 
As  war-parties,  when  retreating, 
Burn  the  prairies  on  their  war-trail ; 
And  the  moon,  the  Night-Sun,  eastward, 
Suddenly  starting  from  his  ambush, 
Followed  fast  those  bloody  footprints, 
Followed  in  that  fiery  war-trail, 
With  its  glare  upon  its  features. 

And  Nokomis,  the  old  woman, 
Pointing  with  her  finger  westward, 
Spake  these  words  to  Hiawatha  : 
"Yonder  dwells  the  great  Pearl-Feathei, 
Megissogwon,  the  Magician, 
Manito  of  Wealth  and  Wampum, 
Guarded  by  his  fiery  serpents, 
Guarded  by  the  black  pitch-water. 
You  can  see  his  fiery  serpents, 
The  Kenabeek,  the  great  serpents, 
Coiling,  playing  in  the  water ; 
You  can  see  the  black  pitch-water 
Stretching  far  away  beyond  them, 
To  the  purple  clouds  of  sunset  I 

"  He  it  was  who  slew  my  father, 
By  his  wicked  wiles  and  cunning, 
When  he  from  the  moon  descevled, 


288  THE   BOXG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

When  he  came  on  earth  to  seek  me. 
He,  the  mightiest  of  Magicians, 
Sends  the  fever  from  the  marshes, 
Sends  the  pestilential  vapors, 
Sends  the  poisonous  exhalations, 
Sends  the  white  fog  from  the  fen-lands, 
Sends  disease  and  death  among  us  ! 

"  Take  your  bow,  O  Hiawatha, 
Take  your  arrows,  jasper-headed, 
Take  your  war-club,  Puggawaugun, 
And  your  mittens,  Minjckahwun, 
And  your  birch-canoe  ibr  sailing, 
And  the  oil  of  Mishe-Nahma, 
So  to  smear  its  sides,  that  swiftly 
You  may  pass  the  black  pitch-water ; 
Slay  this  merciless  magician, 
Save  the  people  from  the  fever 
That  he  breathes  across  the  fen-lands, 
And  avenge  my  father's  murder ! " 

Straightway  then  my  Hiawatha 
Armed  himself  with  all  his  war-gear, 
Launched  his  birch-canoe  for  sailing ; 
With  his  palm  its  sides  he  patted, 
Said  with  glee,  "  Cheemaun,  my  darling, 
O  my  Birch-Canoe  !  leap  forward, 
Where  you  see  the  fiery  serpents, 
Where  you  see  the  black  pitch-water !  " 

Forward  leaped  Cheemaun  exulting, 
And  the  noble  Hiawatha 
Sang  his  war-song  wild  and  woful, 
And  above  him  the  war-eagle, 
The  Keneu,  the  great  war-eagle, 
Master  of  all  fowls  with  feathers, 
Screamed  and  hurtled  through  the  heaven* 

Soon  he  reached  the  fiery  serpents, 
The  Kenabeek,  the  great  serpents, 
Lying  huge  upon  the  water, 
Sparkling,  rippling  in  the  water, 
Lying  coiled  across  the  passage, 


HIAWATHA    AND    THE   PEARL-FEATHEB.     289 

With  their  blazing  crests  uplifted, 

Breathing  liery  fogs  and  vapors, 

So  that  none  could  pass  beyond  them. 

But  the  fearless  Hiawatha 
Cried  aloud,  and  spake  in  this  wise : 
"  Let  me  pass  my  way,  Kenabeek, 
Let  me  go  upon  my  journey  ! " 
And  they  answered,  hissing  fiercely, 
With  their  fiery  breath  made  answer: 
"  Back,  go  back  !  O  Shaugodaya  ! 
Back  to  old  Nokomis,  Faint-heart  1 " 

Then  the  angry  Hiawatha 
liaised  his  mighty  bow  of  ash-tree, 
Seized  his  arrows,  jasper-headed, 
Shot  them  fast  among  the  serpents ; 
Every  twanging  of  the  bow-string 
Was  a  war-cry  and  a  death-cry, 
Every  whizzing  of  an  arrow 
Was  a  death-song  of  Kenabeek. 

Weltering  in  the  bloody  water, 
Dead  lay  all  the  fiery  serpents, 
And  among  them  Hiawatha 
Harmless  sailed,  and  cried  exulting: 
"  Onward,  O  Cheemaun,  my  darling ! 
Onward  to  the  black  pitch-water  I  '* 

Then  he  took  the  oil  of  Nahma, 
And  the  bows  and  sides  anointed, 
Smeared  them  well  with  oil,  that  swiftly 
He  might  pass  the  black  pitch-water. 

All  night  long  he  sailed  upon  it, 
Sailed  upon  that  sluggish  water, 
Covered  with  its  mould  of  ages, 
Black  with  rotting  water-rushes, 
Rank  with  flags  and  leaves  of  lilies, 
Stagnant,  lifeless,  dreary,  dismal, 
Lighted  by  the  shimmering  moonlight, 
And  by  will-o'-the-wisps  illumined, 
Fires  by  ghosts  of  dead  men  kindled, 
Jn  their  weary  night-encampments. 

VPI«  II*  19 


tOO  THE   SOXQ   OF   HIAWATHA. 

All  the  air  -was  white  with  moonlight, 
All  the  water  Mack  wilh  shadow, 
And  around  him  the  Suggcma, 
Tlie  mosquitos,  sang  their  war-song, 
Ami  tlie  fire-flies,  Wah-wah-taysee, 
Waved  their  torches  to  mislead  him  ; 
And  the  bull-fi-og,  the  Dahinda, 
Thrust  liis  head  into  the  moonlight, 
Fixed  his  yellow  eyes  upon  him, 
Sobbed  and  sank  beneath  the  surface; 
And  anon  a  thousand  whistles, 
Answered  over  all  the  fun-lands, 
And  the  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Far  oil*  on  the  reedy  margin, 
Heralded  the  hero's  coining. 

Westward  thus  fared  Hiawatha, 
Toward  the  realm  of  Megissogwon, 
Toward  the  land  of  the  Pearl- Feather, 
Till  the  level  moon  stared  at  him, 
In  his  face  stared  pale  and  haggard, 
Till  the  sun  was  hot  behind  him, 
Till  it  burned  upon  his  shoulders, 
And  before  him  on  the  upland 
He  could  see  the  Shining  Wigwam 
Of  the  Manito  «f  Wampum, 
Of  the  mightiest  of  Magicians. 

Then  once  more  Chcemaun  he  patted, 
To  his  birch-canoe  said,  "  Onward  1 " 
And  it  stirred  in  all  its  fibres, 
And  with  one  great  bound  of  triumph 
Leaped  across  the  water-lilies, 
leaped  through  tangled  flags  and  rushes, 
And  upon  the  beach  beyond  them 
Dry-shod  landed  Hiawatha. 

Straight  he  took  his  bow  of  ash-tree, 
On  the  sand  one  end  he  rested, 
With  his  knee  he  pressed  the  middle, 
Stretched  the  faithful  bow-string  tighter, 
Took  an  arrow,  jasper-headed, 


HIAWATHA   AND   THE   PEARL-FEATHER.      291 

Shot  it  at  the  Shining  Wigwam, 

Sent  it  singing  as  a  herald, 

As  a  bearer  of  his  message, 

Of  his  challenge  loud  and  lofty : 

u  Come  forth  from  your  lodge,  Pearl-Feather  I 

Hiawatha  waits  your  coming  ! " 

Straightway  from  the  Shining  "Wigwam 
Came  the  mighty  Megissogwon, 
Tall  of  stature,  broad  of  shoulder, 
Dark  and  terrible  in  aspect, 
Clad  from  head  to  foot  m  wampum, 
Armed  with  all  his  warlike  weapons, 
Painted  like  the  sky  of  morning, 
Streaked  with  crimson,  blue  and  yellow, 
Crested  with  great  eagle-feathers, 
Streaming  upward,  streaming  outward. 

"  Well  1  know  you,  Hiawatha  ! " 
Cried  he  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
In  a  tone  of  loud  derision. 
•'Hasten  back,  O  Shaugodaya  ! 
Hasten  back  among  the  women, 
Back  to  old  Xokomis,  Faint-heart  1 
I  will  slay  you  as  you  stand  there, 
As  of  old  I  slew  her  father  1 " 

But  my  Hiawatha  answered, 
Nothing  daunted,  fearing  nothing: 
"  Big  words  do  not  smite  like  war-clubs, 
Boastful  breath  is  not  a  bow-string, 
Taunts  are  not  so  sharp  as  arrows, 
Deeds  are  better  things  than  words  are, 
Actions  mightier  than  boastings  1 " 

Then  began  the  greatest  battle 
That  the  sun  had  ever  looked  on, 
That  the  war-birds  ever  witnessed. 
All  a  Summer's  day  it  lasted, 
From  the  sunrise  to  the  sunset; 
For  the  shafts  of  Hiawatha 
Harmless  hit  the  shirt  of  wampum, 
Harmless  fell  the  blows  he  dealt  it 


292  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

With  his  mittens,  Minjokaliwun, 
Harmless  fell  the  heavy  war-club; 
It  could  dash  the  rocks  asunder, 
But  it  could  not  break  the  meshes 
Of  that  magic  shirt  of  wampum. 

Till  at  sunset  Hiawatha, 
Leaning  on  his  bow  of  ash-tree, 
Wounded,  weary,  and  desponding, 
With  his  mighty  war-club  broken, 
With  his  mittens  torn  and  tattered, 
And  three  useless  arrows  only, 
Paused  to  rest  beneath  a  pine-tree, 
From  whose  branches  trailed  the  mosses, 
And  whose  trunk  was  coated  over 
With  the  Dead-man's  Moccasin-leather, 
With  the  fungus  white  and  yellow. 

Suddenly  from  the  boughs  above  him 
Sang  the  Mama,  the  woodpecker: 
"  Aim  your  arrows,  Hiawatha, 
At  the  head  of  Megissogwon, 
Strike  the  tuft  of  hair  upon  it, 
At  their  roots  the  long  black  tresses ; 
There  alone  can  he  be  wounded  ! " 

Winged  with  feathers,  tipped  with  jasper, 
Swift  Hew  Hiawatha's  arrow, 
Just  as  Megissogwon,  stooping, 
liaised  a  heavy  stone  to  throw  it 
Full  upon  the  crown  it  struck  him, 
At  the  roots  of  his  long  tresses, 
And  he  reeled  and  staggered  forward, 
Plunging  like  a  wounded  bison, 
Yes,  like  Pezhekec,  the  bison, 
When  the  snow  is  on  the  prairie. 

Swifter  flew  the  second  arrow, 
In  the  pathway  of  the  other, 
Piercing  deeper  than  the  other, 
Wounding  sorer  than  the  other; 
And  the  knees  of  Megissogwon 
Shook  like  windy  roods  beneath  him, 
Bent  and  trembled  like  the  rushes. 


HIAWATHA  AND   THE   PEAHL-FEATHEB.      293 

But  the  third  and  latest  arrow 
Swiftest  Hew,  and  wounded  sorest, 
And  the  mighty  Mcgissogwon 
Saw  the  fiery  eyes  of  Pauguk, 
Saw  the  eyes  of  Death  glare  at  him, 
Heard  his  voice  call  in  the  darkness; 
At  the  feet  of  Hiawatha 
Lifeless  lay  the  great  Pearl-Feather, 
Lay  the  mightiest  of  Magicians. 

Then  the  grateful  Hiawatha 
Called  the  Mama,  the  woodpecker, 
From  his  perch  among  the  branches 
Of  the  melancholy  pine-tree, 
And,  in  honor  of  his  service, 
Stained  with  blood  the  tuft  of  feathers 
On  the  little  head  of  Mama ; 
Even  to  this  day  he  wears  it, 
Wears  the  tuft  of  crimson  feathers, 
As  a  symbol  of  his  service. 

Then  he  stripped  the  shirt  of  wampum 
From  the  back  of  Megissogwon, 
As  a  trophy  of  the  battle, 
As  a  signal  of  his  conquest. 
On  the  shore  lie  left  the  body, 
Half  on  land  and  half  in  water, 
In  the  sand  his  feet  were  buried, 
And  his  face  was  in  the  water. 
And  above  him,  wheeled  and  clamored 
The  Kcneu,  the  great  war-eagle, 
Sailing  round  in  narrower  circles, 
Hovering  nearer,  nearer,  nearer. 

From  the  wigwam  Hiawatha 
Bore  the  wealth  of  M(>gissog\von, 
All  his  wealth  of  skins  and  wampum, 
Furs  of  bison  and  of  beaver, 
Furs  of  sable  and  of  ermine, 
Wampum  belts  and  strings  and  pouches, 
Quivers  wrought  with  beads  of  wampum, 
Filled  with  arrows,  silver-headed. 


894  THE   PONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Homeward  then  he  sailed  exulting, 
Homeward  through  tlic  Mack  pitch-water, 
Homeward  through  tlic  weltermg  serpents, 
With  the  trophies  of  the  battle, 
With  a  shout  and  song  of  triumph. 

On  the  shore  stood  old  Nokomis, 
On  the  shore  stood  Chibiabos, 
And  the  very  strong  man,  Kwasind, 
Waiting  for  the  hero's  coming, 
Listening  to  his  song  of  triumph. 
And  the  people  of  the  village 
Welcomed  him  with  songs  and  dances, 
Made  a  joyous  feast,  anil  shouted : 
"  Honor  be  to  Hiawatha ! 
He  has  slain  the  great  Pearl-Feather, 
Slain  the  mightiest  of  Magicians, 
Him,  who  sent  the  fiery  fever. 
Sent  the  white  fog  from  the  fen-lands, 
Sent  disease  and  death  among  ml" 

Kver  dear  to  Hiawatha 
Was  the  memory  of  Mama ! 
And  in  token  of  his  friendship, 
As  a  mark  of  his  remembrance, 
He  adorned  and  decked  his  pipe-stem 
With  the  crimson  tuft  of  feathers, 
With  the  blood-red  crest  of  Mauaa. 
But  the  wealth  of  Megissogwon, 
All  the  trophies  of  the  kittle, 
He  divided  with  his  people, 
Shared  it  equally  among  them. 


HIAWATHA'S  WOOINO. 

*  As  unto  the  bow  the  cord  is, 
So  unto  the  man  is  woman, 
Though  she  bends  him,  she  obeys  him, 
Though  she  draws  him,  yet  she  follow*, 
Useless  each  without  the  other  1 " 

Thus  the  youthful  Hiawatha 
Said  within  himself  and  pondered, 
Much  perplexed  by  various  feelings, 
Listless,  longing,  hoping,  fearing, 
Dreaming  still  of  Mmnehaha, 
Of  the  lovely  Laughing  Water, 
In  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs. 

"  Wed  a  maiden  of  your  people," 
Warning  said  the  old  Nokomis ; 
u  Go  not  eastward,  go  not  westward, 
For  a  stranger,  whom  we  know  noi  I 
Like  a  lire  upon  the  hearth-stone 
Is  a  neighbor's  homely  daughter, 
Like  the  starlight  or  the  moonlight 
L)  the  handsomest  of  strangers ! " 

Thus  dissuading  spake  Xokomia, 
And  my  Hiawatha  answered 
Only  this  :  "  Dear  old  Nokomis, 
Very  pleasant  is  the  firelight, 
But  1  like  the  starlight  better, 
Better  do  I  like  the  moonlight  !* 

Gravely  then  said  old  Nokomia: 
M  Bring  not  here  an  idle  maiden, 
Bring  not  here  a  useless  woman, 
Hands  unskilful,  feet  unwilling; 
Bring  a  wife  with  nimble  lingers, 
Heart  and  hand  that  move  together, 
Feet  that  run  on  willing  errands  1" 
(295) 


296  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Smiling  answered  Hiawatha : 
«Jn  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs 
Lives  the  Arrow-maker'*  daughter, 
Minnchaha,  Laughing  Water, 
Handsomest  of  all  the  women. 
I  will  bring  her  to  your  wigwam, 
She  shall  run  upon  your  errands, 
Be  your  starlight,  moonlight,  firelight, 
Be  the  sunlight  of  my  people  ! " 

Still  dissuading  said  Nokomis  : 
44  Bring  not  to  my  lodge  a  stranger 
From  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs  1 
Very  fierce  are  the  Dacotahs, 
Often  is  there  war  between  us, 
There  are  feuds  yet  unforgotten, 
Wounds  that  ache  and  still  may  open  I* 

Laughing  answered  Hiawatha: 
**  For  that  reason,  if  no  other, 
Would  I  Avcd  the  fair  Dacotah, 
That  our  tribes  might  be  united, 
That  old  feuds  might  be  forgotten, 
And  old  wounds  be  healed  forever ! " 

Thus  departed  Hiawatha 
To  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs, 
To  the  land  of  handsome  women ; 
Striding  over  moor  and  meadow, 
Through  interminable  forests, 
Through  uninterrupted  silenrc. 

With  his  moccasins  of  magic, 
At  each  stride  a  mile  he  measured; 
Yet  the  way  seemed  long  before  him, 
And  his  heart  outran  his  footsteps ; 
And  he  journeyed  without  resting, 
Till  he  heard  the  cataract's  laughter, 
Heard  the  Falls  of  Minnchaha 
Calling  to  him  through  the  silence. 
"  Pleasant  is  the  sound !"  he  murmured, 
"  Pleasant  is  the  voice  that  calls  me  1 " 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  forest, 


HIAWATHA'S  WOOING.  29? 

TVixt  the  shadow  and  the  sunshine, 
Herds  of  fallow  deer  were  feeding, 
But  they  saw  not  Hiawatha  ; 
To  his  bow  he  whispered,  "  Fail  not !" 
To  his  arrow  whispered,  "  Swerve  not '  * 
Sent  it  sinning  on  its  errand, 
To  the  red  heart  of  the  roebuck  ; 
Threw  the  deer  across  his  shoulder 
And  sped  forward  without  pausing. 

At  the  doorway  of  his  wigwam 
Sat  the  ancient  Arrow-maker, 
In  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs, 
Making  arrow-heads  of  jasper, 
Arrow-heads  of  chalcedony. 
At  his  side,  in  all  her  beauty, 
Sat  the  lovely  Minnehaha, 
Sat  his  daughter,  Laughing  "Water, 
Plaiting  mats  of  flags  and  rushes ; 
Of  the  past  the  old  man's  thoughts  were, 
And  the  maiden's  of  the  future. 

He  was  thinking,  as  he  sat  there, 
Of  the  days  when  with  such  arrows 
He  had  struck  the  deer  and  bison, 
On  the  Muskodav,  the  meadow ; 
Shot  the  wild  goose,  llying  southward, 
On  the  wing,  the  clamorous  Wawa; 
Thinking  of  the  great  Avar-parties, 
How  they  came  to  buy  his  arrows, 
Could  not  fight  without  his  arrows. 
Ah,  no  more  such  noble  warriors 
Could  be  found  on  earth  as  they  were ; 
Now  the  men  were  all  like  women, 
Only  used  their  tongues  for  weapons! 

She  was  thinking  of  a  hunter, 
From  another  tribe  and  country, 
Young  and  tall  and  very  handsome, 
Who  one  morning,  in  the  Spring-timft, 
Came  to  buy  her  father*!  arrows, 
Sat  and  rested  in  the  wigwam, 


298  THE   SOXO    OF    HIAWATHA. 

Lingered  long  about  thf  doorwaj, 
Looking  back  as  lie  departed. 
She  had  heard  her  father  praise  him, 
Praise  his  courage  and  his  wisdom  ; 
Would  he  come  a<rain  lor  arrows 
Tothcfallsof  Mmm-lmhn'.' 
On  the  mat  her  hands  lay  idle, 
And  her  eyes  were  very  dreamy. 

Through  their  thoughts  they  heard  a  footstep, 
Heard  a  rustling  in  the  branches, 
And  with  glowing  cheek  and  forehead, 
With  the  deer  upon  his  shoulders, 
Suddenly  from  out  the  woodlands 
Hiawatha  stood  before  them. 

Straight  the  ancient  Arrow-maker 
Looked  up  gravely  from  his  labor, 
Laid  aside  the  unfinished  arrow, 
Bade  him  enter  at  the  doorway, 
Baying,  as  he  rose  to  meet  him, 
M  Hiawatha,  you  are  welcome  !  " 

At  the  feet  of  Laughing  Water 
Hiawatha  laid  his  burden, 
Threw  the  red  deer  from  his  shoulders; 
And  the  maiden  looked  up  at  him, 
Looked  up  from  her  mat  of  rushes, 
Saiil  with  gentle  look  and  accent, 
"You  are  welcome,  Hiawatha!" 

Very  spacious  was  the  wigwam, 
Made  of  deer-skin  dressed  and  whitened, 
With  «bc  Gods  of  the  Dacotahs 
Drawn  and  painted  on  its  cm-tains, 
And  so  tall  the  doorway,  hardly 
Hiawatha  stooped  lo  enter, 
Hardly  touched  his  eagle-feathers 
As  he  entered  at  the  doorway. 

Then  uprose  the  Laughing'  Water, 
From  the  ground  fair  Minnchaha, 
Laid  aside  her  mat  unfinished. 
Brought  ibrth  food  aud  set  before  them, 


HIAWATHA'S  WOOINO.  299 

Water  brought  them  from  the  brooklet, 

Gave  them  food  in  earthen  vessels, 

Gave  them  drink  in  bowls  of  bass-wood,  . 

Listened  while  the  jruest  was  speaking, 

Listened  while  her  father  answered, 

But  not  once  her  lips  she  opened, 

Not  a  single  word  she  uttered. 

Yes,  as  in  a  dream  she  listened 
To  the  words  of  Hiawatha, 
As  he  talked  of  old  Nokomis, 
Who  had  nursed  him  in  his  childhood, 
As  lie  told  of  his  companions, 
Chibiabos,  the  musician, 
And  the  very  strong  man,  Kwasind, 
And  of  happiness  and  plenV 
In  tho  land  of  the  Ojibways, 
In  the  pleasant  land  and  peaceful. 

"  Alter  many  years  of  warfare, 
Many  years  of  strife  and  bloodshed, 
There  is  peace  between  the  Ojibways 
And  the  tribe  of  the  Dacotahs!" 
Thus  continued  Hiawatha, 
And  then  added,  speaking  slowly, 
"  That  this  peace  may  last  forever, 
And  our  hands  be  clasped  more  closely, 
And  our  hearts  be  more  united, 
Give  me  as  my  wife  this  maiden, 
Minnehaha,  Laughing  Water, 
Loveliest  of  Dacotah  women  !  " 

And  the  ancient  Arrow-maker 
Paused  a  moment  ere  he  answered, 
Smoked  a  little  while  in  silence, 
Looked  at.  Hiawatha  proudly, 
Fondly  looked  at  Laughing  Water, 
And  made  answer  very  gravely: 
"  Yes,  if  Minnchaha  wi<!ies  ; 
Let  your  heart  speak,  Minnchaha!" 

And  *he  lovely  Laughing  Water 
fr.my^.  more  lovely,  as  she  stood  there, 


800  THE   SOXO   OF   niAWATHJu 

Neither  willing  nor  reluctant, 
As  she  went  to  Hiawatha, 
Softly  took  the  scat  beside  him, 
While  she  said,  and  blushed  to  say  it, 
"  I  will  follow  yon,  my  husband  !  " 

This  was  Hiawatha's  wooing! 
Thus  it  was  he  won  the  daughter 
Of  the  ancient  Arrow-maker, 
In  the  land  of  the  Daeotahs ! 

From  the  wijjwam  he  departed, 
Leading  with  him  Laughing  "Water; 
Hand  in  hand  they  went  together, 
Through  the  woodland  and  the  meadow, 
Left  the  old  man  standing  lonely 
At  the  doorway  of  hit  nr  igwam, 
Hoard  the  Falls  of  Minnchaha 
Calling  to  them  from  the,  distance, 
Crying  to  them  from  afar  off, 
"Fare  thcc  well,  O  Minnehaha!" 

And  the  ancient  Arrow-maker 
Turned  again  unto  his  labor, 
Sat  down  by  his  sunny  doorway, 
Murmuring  to  himself,  and  saying: 
"  Thus  it  is  our  daughters  leave  us, 
Those  we  love,  and  those  who  love  us ! 
Just  when  they  have  learned  to  help  ua, 
When  we  are  old  and  lean  upon  them, 
Comes  a  youth  with  flaunting  feathers, 
With  his  llute  of  reeds,  a  stranger 
Wanders  piping  through  the  village, 
Beckons  to  the  fairest  maiden, 
And  she  follows  where  he  leads  her, 
Leaving  all  things  for  the  stranger!" 

Pleasant  was  the  journey  homeward, 
Through  interminable  forests, 
Over  meadow,  over  mountain, 
Over  river,  hill,  and  hollow. 
Short  it  seemed  to  Hiawatha, 
Though  they  journeyed  very  slowly, 


HIAWATHA'S  WOOING.  301 

Though  liis  pace  he  checked  and  slackened 
To  the  steps  of  Laughing  Water. 

Over  wide  and  rushing  rivers 
In  his  arms  he  bore  the  maiden  ; 
Light  he  thought  her  as  a  feather, 
As  the  plume  upon  his  head-gear ; 
Cleared  the  tangled  pathway  for  her, 
Bent  aside  the  swaying  branches, 
Made  at  night  a  lodge  of  branches, 
And  a  bed  with  boughs  of  hemlock, 
And  a  lire  beibre  the  doorway 
With  the  dry  cones  of  the  pine-tree. 

All  the  travelling  winds  went  with  them, 
O'er  the  meadow,  through  the  forest ; 
All  the  stars  of  night  looked  at  them, 
Watched  with  sleepless  eyes  their  slumber ; 
From  his  ambush  in  the  oak-tree 
Peeped  the  squirrel,  Adjidaumo, 
Watched  with  eager  eyes  the  lovers ; 
And  the  rabbit,  the  Wabasso, 
Scampered  from  the  path  before  them, 
Peering,  peeping  from  his  burrow, 
Sat  erect  upon  his  haunches, 
Watched  with  curious  eyes  the  lovers. 

Pleasant  was  the  journey  home  ward  1 
All  the  birds  sang  loud  and  sweetly 
Songs  of  happiness  and  heart's-ease ; 
Sang  the  blue-bird,  the  Owaissa, 
"  Happy  are  you,  Hiawatha, 
Having  such  a  wife  to  love  you  1" 
Sang  the  robin,  the  Opechcc, 
"  Happy  are  you,  Laughing  Water, 
Having  such  a  noble  husband ! " 

From  the  sky  the  sun  benignant 
Looked  upon  them  through  the  branches, 
Saying  to  them,  "  O  my  children, 
Love  is  sunshine,  hate  is  shadow, 
Life  is  checkered  shade  and  sunshine, 
Uule  by  love,  O  Hiawatha ! " 


SOJ  THE   80X0   OF   HIAWATHA. 

From  the  sky  tlic  moon  looked  at  them, 
Filled  the  lodge  with  mystic  splendors, 
Whispered  to  them,  "  O  my  children, 
Day  is  restless,  night  is  quiet, 
Man  imperious,  woman  feeble  ; 
Half  is  mine,  although  I  follow ; 
llule  by  patience,  Laughing  Water !  " 

Thus  it  was  they  journeyed  homeward ; 
Thus  it  was  that  Hiawatha 
To  the  lodge  of  old  Nokomis 
Brought  the  moonlight,  starlight,  firelight, 
Brought  the  sunshine  of  his  people, 
Mimiehaha,  Laughing  Water, 
Handsomest  of  all  the  women 
In  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs, 
In  the  land  of  handsome  women. 


XL 

HIAWATHA'S  WEDDING-FEAST. 

Ton  shall  hear  how  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
How  the  handsome  Yenadi/ze 
Danced  at  Hiawatha's  wedding; 
How  llie  gentle  Chibiabos, 
He  the  sweetest  of  musicians, 
Sang  his  songs  of  love  and  longing ; 
How  lagoo,  the  great  boaster, 
He  the  marvellous  story-teller, 
Told  his  talcs  of  strange  adventure, 
That  the  feast  might  be  more  joyous, 
That  the  time  might  pass  more  £iyly, 
And  the  guests  be  more  contented. 

Sumptuous  was  the  feast  Nokomis 
Made  at  Hiawatha's  wedding ; 
All  the  bowls  were  made  of  bass-wood, 
White  and  polished  very  smoothly, 
All  the  spoons  of  horn  of  bison, 
Black  and  polished  very  smoothly. 

She  had  sent  through  all  the  village 
Messengers  with  wands  of  willow, 
As  a  sign  of  invitation, 
As  a  token  of  the  feasting ; 
And  the  wedding  guests  assembled, 
Clad  in  all  their  richest  raiment, 
Robes  of  fur  and  belts  of  wampum, 
Splendid  with  their  paint  and  plumage, 
Beautiful  with  beads  and  tassels. 

First  they  ate  the  sturgeon,  Xahma, 
And  the  pike,  the  Maskenozha, 
Caujht  and  cooked  by  old  .Xokomis; 
Then  on  pemican  they  feasted, 
Pemican  and  buffalo  marrow 


304  THE    BONG   OF    niAWATHA. 

Haunch  of  deer  and  luinip  of  bison, 
Yellow  cakes  of  the  Mondamin, 
And  the  wild  rice  of  the  river. 

But  the  gracious  Hiawatha, 
And  the  lovely  Laughing  \Vatcr, 
And  the  careful  old  Nokomis, 
Tasted  not  the  food  before  them, 
Only  waited  on  the  others, 
Only  served  their  guests  in  silence. 

And  when  all  the  guests  had  finished, 
Old  Nokomis,  brisk  and  busy, 
From  an  ample  pouch  of  otter, 
Filled  the  red  stone  pipes  for  smoking 
With  tobacco  from  the  South-land, 
Mixed  with  bark  of  the  red  willow, 
And  with  herbs  and  leaves  of  fragrance. 

Then  she  said,  "  O  Pau-Puk-Kcewis, 
Dance  for  us  your  merry  dances, 
Dance  the  Beggar's  Dance  to  please  us, 
That  the  feast  may  be  more  joyous, 
That  the  time  may  pass  more  gayly, 
And  our  guests  be  more  contented  1 " 

Then  the  handsome  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
He  the  idle  Yenadizzc, 
Ho  the  merry  mischief-maker, 
Whom  the  people  called  the  Storm-Fool, 
Rose  among  the  guests  assembled. 

Skilled  was  he  in  sports  and  pastimes, 
In  the  merry  dance  of  snow-shoes, 
In  the  play  of  quoits  and  ball-play ; 
Skilled  was  he  in  games  of  hazard, 
In  all  games  of  skill  and  hazard, 
Pugasaing,  the  Bowl  and  Counters, 
Kuntassoo,  the  Game  of  Plum-stones. 

Though  the  warriors  called  him  Faint-Heart, 
Called  him  coward,  Sliatigodaya, 
Idler,  gambler,  Yenadi//e, 
Little  heeded  he  their  jesting, 
Li'.tle  cared  he  for  their  insults, 


HIAWATHA'S  WEDDING-FEAST.         805 

For  the  women  and  the  maidens 
Loved  the  handsome  Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

lie  was  dressed  in  shirt  of  doe-skin, 
White  and  soft,  and  fringed  with  ermine, 
All  inwrought  with  beads  of  wampum; 
He  was  dressed  in  deer-skin  leggings, 
Fringed  with  hedgehog  quills  and  ermine, 
And  in  moccasins  of  buck-skin, 
Thick  with  quills  and  beads  embroidered. 
On  his  head  were  plumes  of  swan's  down, 
On  his  heels  were  tails  of  foxes, 
In  one  hand  a  fan  of  feathers, 
And  a  pipe  was  in  the  other. 

Barred  with  streaks  of  red  and  yellow, 
Streaks  of  blue  and  bright  vermilion, 
Shone  the  face  of  Pau-Puk-Keewis. 
From  his  forehead  fell  his  tresses, 
Smooth,  and  parted  like  a  woman's, 
Shining  bright  with  oil,  and  plaited, 
Hung  with  braids  of  scented  grasses, 
As  among  the  guests  assembled, 
To  the  sound  of  flutes  and  singing, 
To  the  sound  of  drums  and  voices, 
Rose  the  handsome  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
And  began  his  mystic  dances. 

First  he  danced  a  solemn  measure, 
Very  slow  in  step  and  gesture, 
In  and  out  among  the  pine-trees, 
Through  the  shadows  and  the  sunshine, 
Treading  softly  like  a  panther. 
Then  more  swiftly  and  still  swifter, 
Whirling,  spinning  round  in  circle?, 
Leaping  o'er  the  guests  assembled, 
Eddying  round  and  round  the  wigwam, 
Till  the  loaves  went  whirling  with  him, 
Till  the  dust  and  wind  together 
Swept  in  eddies  round  about  him. 

Then  along  the  sandy  margin 
Of  the  lake,  the  Big-Sea- Water, 

VOL.  U.  20 


J06  THE   80XO   OF   HIAWATHA. 

On  lie  sped  with  frcn/ied  postures, 
Stamtwd  upon  the  sand,  and  tossed  it 
Wildly  in  the  air  around,  him  ; 
Till  the  wind  became  a  whirlwind, 
Till  the  sand  was  Mown  and  silled 
Like  great  snowdrifts  o'er  the  landscape, 
Heaping  all  the  shores  with  Sand  Dunes, 
Sand  Hills  of  the  Xagow  Wu.ljoo  ! 

Thus  thft  merry  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Danced  his  Beggar's  Dance  to  please  them, 
And,  returning,  sat  down  laughing 
There  among  the  guests  assembled, 
Sat  and  fanned  himself  serenely 
With  his  fan  of  turkey-feathers. 

Then  they  said  to  Chibiabos, 
To  the  friend  of  Hiawatha, 
To  the  sweetest  of  all  sinners, 
To  the  best  of  all  musicians, 
"  Sing  to  us,  O  Chibialxw  ! 
Songs  of  love  and  songs  of  longing, 
That  the  feast  may  be  more  jovous, 
That  the  time  may  pass  more  gayly, 
And  our  guests  be  more  contented!" 

And  the  gentle  Chibialnw 
Sang  in  accents  sweet  and  tender, 
Sang  in  tones  of  deep  emotion, 
Songs  of  love  and  songs  of  longing; 
Looking  still  at  Hiawatha, 
Looking  at  lair  Laughing  Water, 
Sang  he  softly,  sang  in  this  wise  : 

"  Onaway  !     Awake,  In-loved  ! 
Thou  the  wild-flower  of  the  forest ! 
Thou  the  wild-bird  of  the  prairie  1 
Thou  with  eyes  so  soft  and  fawn-like . 

"  If  tliou  only  lookest  at  me, 
J  am  happy,  I  am  happy, 
As  the  lilies  of  the  prairie, 
When  they  feel  the  dew  upon  them  I 

"  Sweet  thy  breath  is  as  the  fragrance 


HIAWATHA'S  WEDDING-FEAST.         301 

Of  the  wild-flowers  in  the  morning, 
As  their  fragrance  is  at  evening, 
In  the  Moon  when  leaves  are  falling. 

"  Docs  not  all  the  blood  within  mo 
Leap  to  meet  thcc,  leap  to  meet  thee, 
As  the  springs  to  meet  the  sunshine, 
In  the  Moon  when  nights  are  brightest  ? 

"  Onaway  !  my  heart  sings  to  thee, 
Sings  with  joy  when  thou  art  near  me, 
Aa  the  sighing,  singing  branches 
In  the  pleasant  Moon  of  Strawberries ! 

"  When  thou  art  not  pleased,  beloved, 
Then  my  heart  is  sad  and  darkened, 
As  the  shining  river  darkens, 
When  the  clouds  drop  shadows  on  it  I 

"  When  thou  smilest,  my  beloved, 
Then  my  troubled  heart  is  brightened, 
As  in  sunshine  gleam  the  ripples 
That  the  cold  wind  makes  in  rivers. 

"  Smiles  the  earth,  and  smile  the  waterl, 
Smile  the  cloudless  skies  above  us, 
But  I  lose  the  way  of  smiling 
When  thou  art  no  longer  near  me! 

"  I  myself,  myself !  behold  me  ! 
Blood  of  my  beating  heart,  behold  me! 
O  awake,  awake,  beloved ! 
Onaway !  awake,  beloved  ! " 

Thus  the  gentle  Chibiabos 
Sang  his  song  of  love  and  longing ; 
And  lagoo,  the  great  boaster, 
lie  the  marvellous  story-teller, 
He  the  friend  of  old  Nokomis, 
Jealous  of  the  sweet  musician, 
Jealous  of  the  applause  they  gave  him, 
Saw  in  all  the  eyes  around  him, 
Saw  in  all  their'looks  and  gestures, 
That  the  wedding  guests  assembled 
Longed  to  hear  his  pleasant  stories, 
His  immeasurable  falsehoods. 


108  THE   80XG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Very  boastful  was  lagoo ; 
Never  heard  lie  an  adventure 
But  himself  had  met  a  greater; 
Never  any  deed  of  daring 
But  himself  had  done  a  bolder ; 
Never  any  marvellous  story 
But  himself  could  tell  a  stranger. 

Would  you  listen  to  his  boasting, 
Would  you  only  give  him  credence. 
No  one  ever  shot  an  arrow 
Half  so  tar  and  high  as  he  had; 
Ever  caught  so  many  fishes, 
Ever  killed  so  many  reindeer, 
Ever  trapped  so  many  beaver  I 

None  could  run  so  last  as  he  could, 
None  could  dive  so  deep  as  he  could, 
None  could  swim  so  far  as  he  could  ; 
None  had  made  so  many  journeys, 
None  had  seen  so  many  wonder*, 
As  this  wonderful  Jagoo, 
As  this  marvellous  story-teller  I 

Thus  his  name  became  a  by- word 
And  a  jest  among  the  people  ; 
And  whene'er  a  boastful  hunter 
Praised  his  own  address  too  highly, 
Or  a  warrior,  home  returning, 
Talked  too  much  of  his  achievement!, 
All  his  hearers  cried,  "  lagoo  ! 
Ilcre  'a  lagoo  come  among  us  I " 

He  it  was  who  carved  the  cradle 
Of  the  little  Hiawatha, 
Carved  its  framework  out  of  linden, 
Bound  it  strong  with  reindeer  sinews; 
He  it  was  who  taught  him  later 
How  to  make  his  bows  and  arrowi, 
How  to  make  the  bows  of  a>h-tix«, 
And  the  arrows  of  the  oak-tree. 
So  among  the  guests  assembled 
At  my  Hiawatha's  wedding 


HIAWATHA'S  WEDDIXG-FEAST.         309 

Sat  lagoo,  old  and  ugly, 

Sat  the  marvellous  story-teller. 

And  they  said,  "  ()  good  lagoo, 
Tell  us  now  a  bile  of  wonder, 
Tell  us  of  some  strange  adventure, 
That  the  feast  may  be  more  joyous, 
That  the  time  may  pass  more  gayly, 
And  our  guests  bo  more  contented  !" 

And  lagoo  answered  straightway, 
"  You  shall  hear  a  tale  of  wonder, 
You  shall  hear  the  strange  adventures 
Of  Ossco,  the  Magician, 
From  the  Evening  Star  descended." 


XIL 

THE   SON   OF   THK    KVEXIXO   BTA.B 

CAN  it  be  the  sun  descending 
O'er  the  level  plain  of  water  ? 
Or  the  Red  Swan  floating,  Hying, 
Wounded  by  the  magic  arrow. 
Staining  all  the  waves  with  crimson, 
With  the  crimson  of  its  lite-blood, 
Filling  all  the  air  with  splendor, 
With  the  splendor  of  its  plumage  ? 

Yes  ;  it  is  the  sun  descending, 
Sinking  down  into  the  water; 
All  the  sky  is  stained  with  purple, 
All  the  water  flushed  with  crimson  1 
No ;  it  is  the  lied  Swan  floating, 
Diving  down  beneath  the  water ; 
To  the  sky  its  wings  are  lifted, 
With  its  blood  the  waves  are  reddened  ! 

Over  it  the  Star  of  Evening 
Melts  and  trembles  through  the  purple, 
Hanjp  suspended  in  the  twilight. 
No ;  it  is  a  bead  of  wampum 
On  the  robes  of  the  Great  Spirit, 
As  he  passes  through  the  twilight, 
Walks  in  silence  through  the  heavens  I 

This  with  joy  beheld  lagoo 
And  he  said  in  haste :  "  Behold  it ! 
See  the  sacred  Star  of  Evening ! 
You  shall  hear  a  tale  of  wonder, 
Hear  the  story  of  Osseo, 
Son  of  the  Evening  Star,  Osseo  ! 

"  Once,  in  days  no  more  remembered. 
Ages  nearer  the  beginning, 
u  boa  the  heavens  were  closer  to  us. 


THK  SON  OF   THE   EVENING  STAB.        811 

And  the  Gods  were  more  familiar, 
In  the  North-land  lived  a  hunter, 
With  ten  young  and  comely  daughters, 
Tall  and  lithe  as  wands  of  willow; 
Only  Owcenee,  the  youngest, 
She  the  wilful  and  the  wayward, 
She  the  silent,  dreamy  maiden, 
Was  the  fairest  of  the  sisters. 

"  All  these  women  married  warriors, 
Married  brave  and  haughty  husbands; 
Only  Owecncc,  the  youngest, 
Laughed  and  llouted  all  her  lovers, 
All  her  young  and  handsome  suitors, 
And  then  married  old  Osseo, 
Old  Osseo,  poor  and  ugly, 
Broken  with  ajgc  and  weak  with  coughing 
Always  coughing  like  a  squirrel. 

"  Ah,  but  beautiful  within  him 
Was  the  spirit  of  Osseo, 
From  the  Evening  Star  descended, 
Star  of  Evening,  Star  of  Woman, 
Star  of  tenderness  and  passion  I 
All  its  fire  was  in  his  bosom 
All  its  beauty  in  his  spirit, 
All  its  mystery  in  his  being, 
All  its  splendor  in  his  language ! 

"  And  her  lovers,  the  rejected, 
Handsome  men  with  belts  of  wampum, 
Handsome  men  with  paint  and  feathers, 
Pointed  at  her  in  derision, 
Followed  her  with  jest  and  laughter. 
But  she  said :  « I  care  not  for  you, 
Care  not  for  your  belts  of  wampum, 
Care  not  for  your  paint  and  feathers, 
Care  not  for  your  )i:sts  and  laughter ; 
[  am  happy  with  Osseo ! ' 

"  Once  to  some  great  feast  invited, 
Through  the  damp  and  dusk  of  evening 
Walked  together  tho  ten  sisters, 


313  THE   50XG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Walked  together  with  their  husbands ; 
Slowly  followed  old  Osseo, 
With  fair  Owccnee  beside  him; 
All  the  others  chatted  gayly, 
These  two  only  walked  in  silence. 

"  At  the  western  sky  Osseo 
Gazed  intent,  as  if  imploring, 
Often  stopped  and  gazed  imploring 
At  the  trembling  Star  of  Evening, 
At  the  tender  Star  of  Woman  ; 
And  they  heard  him  murmur  softly, 
'  Ah,  showain  nemeshin,  Nosa! 
Pity,  pity  me,  my  father  ! ' 

" '  Listen  ! '  said  the  eldest  sister, 
'  lie  is  praying  to  his  father  ! 
What  a  pity  that  the  old  man 
Does  not  stumble  in  the  pathway, 
Does  not  break  his  neck  by  falling ! ' 
And  they  laughed  till  all  the  forest 
Ran"  with  their  unseemly  laughter. 

"  On  their  pathway  through  the  woodland* 
Lay  an  oak,  by  storms  uprooted, 
Lay  the  great  trunk  of  an  oak-tree, 
Bnricd  half  in  leaves  and  mosses, 
Mouldering,  crumbling,  huge  and  hollow. 
And  Osseo,  when  he  saw  it, 
Gave  a  shout,  a  cry  of  anguish, 
Leaped  into  its  yawning  cavern, 
At  one  end  went  in  an  old  man, 
Wasted,  wrinkled,  old,  and  ugly; 
From  the  other  came  a  young  man, 
Tall  and  straight  and  strong  and  handsome. 

"  Tiros  Osseo  was  transfigured, 
Thus  restored  to  youth  and  beauty ; 
But,  alas  for  good  Osseo, 
And  for  Oweenec,  the  faithful ! 
Strangely,  too,  was  she  transfigured. 
Changed  into  a  weak  old  woman, 
With  a  staff  she  totteroU  onward, 


THE  SOX   OF   THE  EVENING  STAB.        318 

Wasted,  wrinkled,  old,  and  ugly  I 
And  the  sisters  and  their  husbands 
Laughed  until  the  echoing  forest 
Rang  with  their  unseemly  laughter. 

"  But  Ossco  turned  not  from  her, 
Walked  with  slower  step  beside  her, 
Took  her  hand,  as  brown  and  withered 
As  an  oak-leaf  is  in  AVinter, 
Called  her  sweetheart,  Ncnemoosha, 
Soothed  her  with  soft  words  of  kindness, 
Till  they  reached  the  lodge  of  feasting, 
Till  they  sat  down  in  the  wigwaua, 
Sacred  to  the  Star  of  Evening, 
To  the  tender  Star  of  Woman. 

"  Wrapt  in  visions,  lost  in  dreaming, 
At  the  banquet  sat  Osseo ; 
All  were  merry,  all  were  happy, 
All  were  joyous  but  Ossco. 
Neither  food  nor  drink  he  tasted, 
Neither  did  he  speak  nor  listen, 
But  as  one  bewildered  sat  he, 
Looking  dreamily  and  sadly, 
First  at  Owecnec,  then  upward 
At  the  gleaming  sky  above  them. 

"  Then  a  voice  was  heard,  a  whisper, 
Coming  from  the  starry  distance, 
Coming  from  the  empty  vastness, 
Low,  and  musical,  and  tender ; 
And  the  voice  said  :  *  O  Osseo  1 
O  my  son,  my  best  beloved  1 
Broken  are  the  spells  that  bound  you, 
All  the  charms  of  the  magicians, 
All  the  magic  powers  of  evil ; 
Come  to  me  ;  ascend,  Osseo! 

" '  Taste  the  food  that  stands  before  you  * 
It  is  blessed  and  enchanted, 
It  has  magic  virtues  in  it, 
It  will  change  you  to  a  spirit. 
All  your  bowls  and  all  your  kettles 


814  THE   SOXG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Sliall  be  wood  and  clay  no  longer; 
But  tlic  l»owls  be  changed  to  wampum, 
And  the  kettles  sliall  be  silver; 
They  shall  shine  like  shells  of  scarlet, 
Like  the  lire  shall  gleam  ami  glimmer. 

44 'And  the  women  shall  no  longer 
Bear  the  dreary  doom  of  labor, 
But  be  changed  to  birds,  and  glisten 
With  the  beauty  of  the  starlight, 
Painted  with  the  dusky  splendors 
Of  the  skies  and  clouds  of  evening  I* 

"  What  Osseo  heard  as  whispers, 
What  as  words  he  comprehended, 
Was  but  music  to  the  others, 
Music  as  of  birds  afar  on", 
Of  tie  whippoorwill  afar  off, 
Of  the  lom-ly  Wawonaissa. 
Singing  in  the  darksome  forest 

"  Then  the  lodge  began  to  tremble, 
Straight  began  to  shake  and  tremble, 
And  they  felt  it  rising,  rising, 
Slowly  through  the  air  ascending, 
From  the  darkness  of  the  tree-tops 
Forth  into  the  dewy  starlight, 
Till  it  passed  the  topmost  branches ; 
And  behold  !  the  wooden  dishes 
All  were  changed  to  shells  of  scarlet ! 
And  behold  !  the  earthen  kettles 
All  were  changed  to  bowls  of  silver! 
And  the  roof-poles  of  the  wigwam 
Were  as  glittering  rods  of  silver, 
And  the  roof  of  bark  upon  them 
As  the  shining  shards  of  beetles. 

"Then  Osseo  gu/cd  around  him, 
And  he  saw  the  nine  lair  sisters, 
All  the  sisters  and  their  husbands, 
Changed  to  birds  of  various  plumage. 
Some  were  jays  and  some  were  magpie*, 
Others  thrushes,  others  blackbirds ; 


THE  SON  OF   THE  EVENING  STAR.         SIS 

And  they  hopped,  a.id  sang,  and  twittered, 
Perked  and  fluttered  all  their  leathers, 
Strutted  in  their  shining  plumage, 
And  their  tails  like  fans  unfolded. 

"  Only  Owccnec,  the  youngest, 
Was  not  changed,  but  sat  in  silence, 
Wasted,  wrinkled,  old,  and  ugly, 
Looking  sadly  at  the  others ; 
Till  Ossco,  gazing  upward, 
Gave  another  cry  of  anguish, 
Such  a  cry  as  he  had  uttered 
By  the  oak-tree  in  the  forest 

"  Then  returned  her  youth  and  beauty, 
And  her  soiled  and  tattered  garments 
Were  transformed  to  robes  of  ermine, 
And  her  staff  became  a  feather, 
Yes,  a  shining  silver  feather! 

"  And  again  the  wigwam  trembled, 
Swayed  and  rushed  through  airy  currents, 
Through  transparent  cloud  and  vapor, 
And  amid  celestial  splendors 
On  the  Evening  Star  alighted, 
As  a  snow-flake  falls  on  snow-Hake, 
As  a  leaf  drops  on  a  river, 
As  the  thistle-down  on  water. 

"Forth  with  cheerful  words  of  welcome 
Came  the  father  of  Osseo, 
He  with  radiant  locks  of  silver, 
He  with  eyes  serene  and  tender. 
And  he  said  :  '  My  son,  Osseo, 
Hang  the  cage  of  birds  you  bring  there, 
Hang  the  cage  with  rods  of  silver, 
And  the  birds  with  glistening  feathers, 
At  the  doorway  of  my  wigwam.' 

"At  the  door  he  hung  the  bird-cage, 
And  they  entered  in  and  gladly- 
Listened  to  Osseo's  father, 
Ruler  of  the  Star  of  Evening, 
As  he  said :  « O  my  Ossoo! 


316  TIIE   SONtt   OF   HIAWATHA. 

1  have  had  compassion  on  yon, 

Given  you  back  your  youth  and  beauty, 

Into  birds  of  various  plumage 

Changed  your  sisters  and  their  husbands; 

Changed  them  tlius  because  they  mocked  yon 

In  the  figure  of  the  old  man, 

In  that  aspect  sad  and  wrinkled. 

Could  not  sec  your  heart  of  passion, 

Could  not  see  your  youth  immortal ; 

Only  Owcenee,  the  faithful, 

Saw  your  naked  heart  and  loved  yon. 

"  '  In  the  lodge  that  glimmers  yonder 
In  the  little  star  that  twinkles 
Through  the  vapors,  on  the  left  band, 
Lives  the  envious  Evil  Spirit, 
The  Wabeno,  the  magician, 
Who  transformed  you  to  an  old  man. 
Take  heed  lest  his  beams  fall  on  you, 
For  the  rays  he  darts  around  him 
Are  the  power  of  his  enchantment, 
Are  the  arrows  that  he  uses.' 

"Many  years,  in  peace  and  quiet, 
On  the  peaceful  Star  of  Evening 
Dwelt  Osseo  with  his  father ; 
Many  years,  in  song  and  flutter, 
At  the  doorway  of  the  wigwam, 
Hung  the  cage  with  rods  of  silver, 
And  lair  Oweenee,  the  faithful, 
Bore  a  son  unto  Ossco, 
With  the  beauty  of  his  mother, 
With  the  courage  of  his  lather. 

"  And  the  boy  grew  up  and  prospered, 
And  Osseo,  to  delight  him, 
Made  him  little  bows  and  arrows, 
Opened  the  great  cage  of  silver, 
And  let  loose  his  aunts  and  uncles, 
All  those  birds  with  glossy  leathers, 
For  his  little  son  to  shoot' at. 

**  iiomid  cin<l  round  tlicy 


THE    SON  OF  THE    EVENING  STAR.        811 

Filled  the  Evening  Star  with  music, 
With  their  songs  of  joy  and  freedom ; 
Filled  the  Evening  Star  with  splendor, 
With  the  fluttering  of  tlicir  plumage  ; 
Till  the  boy,  the  little  hunter, 
Bent  his  bow  and  shot  an  arrow, 
Shot  a  swift  and  fatal  arrow, 
And  a  bird,  with  shining  leathers, 
At  his  feet  fell  wounded  sorely. 

"  But,  O  wondrous  transformation  I 
T  was  no  bird  he  saw  before  him, 
T  was  a  beautiful  young  woman, 
With  the  arrow  in  her  bosom  ! 

"  When  her  blood  fell  on  the  planet, 
On  the  sacred  Star  of  Evening, 
Broken  was  the  spell  of  magic, 
Powerless  was  the  strange  enchantment, 
And  the  youth,  the  fearless  bowman, 
Suddenly  felt  himself  descending, 
Held  by  unseen  hands,  but  sinking 
Downward  through  the  empty  spaces, 
Downward  through  the  clouds  and  vapors, 
Till  he  rested  on"an  island, 
On  an  island,  green  and  grassy, 
Yonder  in  the  Big-Sea- Water. 

"  After  him  he  saw  descending 
All  the  birds  with  shining  feathers, 
Fluttering,  falling,  Availed  downward, 
Like  the  painted  leaves  of  Autumn; 
And  the  lodge  with  jx>les  of  silver, 
With  its  roof  like  wings  of  beetles, 
Like  the  shining  shards  of  beetles, 
By  the  winds  of  heaven  uplifted, 
Slowly  sank  upon  the  island, 
Bringing  back  the  good  Osseo, 
Bringing  Oweenee,  the  faithful. 

"  Then  the  birds,  again  transfigured, 
Reassumcd  the  shape  of  mortals, 
Took  their  shape,  but  not  their  stature ; 


318  THE   80X0   OF   HIAWATHA. 

They  remained  as  Little  People, 
Like  the  pigmies,  the  1'uk-W  ud  jics, 
And  on  pleasant  nights  of  Summer, 
When  the  Evening  Star  was  shining, 
Hand  in  hand  they  danced  together 
On  the  island's  crappy  headland*, 
On  the  sand-beach  low  and  level. 

"  Still  their  glittering  lodge  is  seen  there, 
On  the  tranquil  Summer  evenings, 
And  upon  the  shoi-c  the  fisher 
Sometimes  hears  their  happy  voices. 
Sees  them  dancing  in  the  starlight ! " 

"\Vhcn  the  story  was  completed, 
When  the  wondrous  tale  was  ended, 
Looking  round  upon  his  listeners, 
Solemnly  lagoo  added  : 
M  There  are  great  men,  I  have  known  such 
Whom  their  people  understand  not, 
Whom  they  even  make  a  jest  of, 
ScoiF  and  jeer  at  in  derision. 
From  the  story  of  Osseo 
Let  us  learn  the  fate  of  jesters !  " 

All  the  wedding  guests  delighted 
Listened  to  the  marvellous  story, 
Listened  laughing  and  applauding, 
And  they  whispered  to  each  other 
"  Does  he  mean  himself,  I  wonder  ? 
And  arc  we  the  aunts  and  uncles  V* 

Then  again  sang  Chibiabos, 
Sang  a  song  of  love  and  longing, 
In  those  accents  sweet  and  tender, 
In  those  tones  of  pensive  sadness, 
Sang  a  maiden's  lamentation 
For  her  lover,  her  Algonquin. 

"  When  I  think  of  my  beloved, 
Ah  me !  think  of  my  beloved, 
When  my  heart  is  thinking  of  him, 
O  my  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin  ! 

"  Ah  me  !  when  1  parted  lioiu  l''"i, 


THE  SON   OF  THE  EVENING  STAB.        819 

Jlound  my  neck  he  hung  the  -wampum, 
As  a  pledge,  the  snoAv-Avhitc  wampum, 
O  mv  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin  ! 

"I  will  go  with  you,  he  whispered, 
Ah  me  1  to  your  native  country  ; 
J<et  me  go  with  you,  he  whispered, 
\)  my  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin! 

"  Far  away,  away,  I  answered, 
Very  far  away,  I  answered, 
Ah  me !  is  my  native  country, 
O  my  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin  ! 

«  When  I  looked  back  to  behold  him, 
Where  we  parted,  to  behold  him, 
After  me  he  still  was  ga/ing, 
O  my  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin  I 

"  By  the  tree  he  still  was  standing, 
By  the  fallen  tree  was  standing, 
That  had  dropped  into  the  water, 
O  my  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin  ! 

"  When  I  think  of  my  beloved, 
Ah  me  !  think  of  my  beloved, 
When  my  heart  is  thinking  of  him, 
O  my  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin  1  * 

Such  was  Hiawatha's  Wedding, 
Such  the  dance  of  I'au-Puk-Kccwia, 
Such  the  story  of  lagoo, 
Such  the  songs  of  C'hibiabos ; 
Thus  the  wedding  banquet  ended, 
And  the  wedding  guests  departed, 
Leaving  Hiawatha  happy 
With  the  night  aud  Miunehaha. 


xm. 

BLESSING   THE   CORX-FIELD8. 

Brxo,  O  Song  of  Hiawatha, 

Of  the  happy  days  tliat  followed, 

In  the  land  of  the  Ojibways, 

In  the  pleasant  land  and  peaceful! 

Sing  the  mysteries  of  Mondamin, 

Sing  the  Blessing  of  the  Corn-fields  1 

Buried  was  the  bloody  hatchet, 
Buried  was  the  dreadful  war-club, 
Buried  were  all  warlike  weapons, 
And  the  war-cry  Avas  forgotten. 
There  was  peace  among  the  nations ; 
Unmolested  roved  the  hunters, 
Built  the  birch  canoe  for  sailing, 
Caught  the  fish  in  lake  and  river, 
Shot  the  deer  and  trapped  the  beaver  ; 
Unmolested  worked  tlie  women, 
Made  their  sugar  from  the  maple, 
Gathered  wild  rice  in  the  meadows, 
Dressed  the  skins  of  deer  and  beaver. 

All  around  the  happy  village 
Stood  the  maize-fields,  green  and  shining, 
Waved  the  green  plumes  of  Mondamin, 
"Waved  his  soft  and  sunny  tresses, 
Filling  all  the  land  with  pli-nty. 
'T  was  the  women  who  in  Spring-time 
Planted  the  broad  fields  and  fruitful, 
Buried  in  the  earth  Mondumin ; 
T  was  the  women  who  in  Autumn 
Stripped  the  yellow  husks  of  harvest, 
Stripped  the  garments  from  Mondamin, 
Even  as  Hiawatha  taught  them. 

Once,  when  all  the  maize  was  planted, 
1320) 


BLESSING   THE   COUN-FJELDS.  821 

Hiawaiha,  wise  and  thoughtful, 
Spake  and  said  to  Minnehaha, 
To  his  wife,  the  Laughing  Water : 
M  You  shall  bless  to-night  the  corn-fields, 
Draw  a  magic  circle  round  them, 
To  protect  them  from  destruction, 
Blast  of  mildew,  blight  of  insect, 
Wagemin,  the  thief  of  corn-fields, 
Paimosaid,  who  steals  the  maize-earl 

"  In  the  night,  when  all  is  silence, 
In  the  night,  when  all  is  darkness, 
When  the  Spirit  of  Sleep,  Nepahwin, 
Shuts  the  doors  of  all  the  wigwams, 
So  that  not  an  ear  can  hear  you, 
So  that  not  an  eye  can  see  you, 
Rise  up  from  your  bed  in  silence, 
Lay  aside  your  garments  wholly, 
Walk  around  the  fields  you  planted, 
Bound  the  borders  of  the  corn-fields, 
Covered  by  your  tresses  only, 
Robed  with  darkness  as  a  garment. 

"  Thus  the  fields  shall  be  more  fruitful, 
And  the  passing  of  your  footsteps 
Draw  a  magic  circle  round  them, 
So  that  neither  blight  nor  mildew, 
Neither  burrowing  worm  nor  insect, 
Shall  pass  o'er  the  magic  circle  ; 
Not  the  dragon-fly,  Kwo-ne-she, 
Nor  the  spider,  Subbekashe, 
Nor  the  grasshopper,  Pah-puk-keena, 
Nor  the  mighty  caterpillar, 
Way-muk-kwana,  with  the  bear-skin, 
King  of  all  the  caterpillars !  " 

On  the  tree-tops  near  the  corn-fielda 
Sat  the  hungry  crows  and  ravens, 
Kahgihgee,  the  King  of  Ravens, 
With  his  band  of  black  marauders. 
And  they  laughed  at  Hiawatha, 
Till  the  tree-tops  shook  with  laughter, 

VOL.  II.  21 


822  THE    SOXG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

With  their  melancholy  laughter 

At  the  words  of  Hiawatha. 

"  Hear  him  !  "  said  they ;  "  hear  the  Wise  Man ! 

Hear  the  plots  of  Hiawatha !  " 

When  the  noiseless  night  descended 
Broad  and  dark  o'er  field  and  forest, 
When  the  mournful  Wawonaissa, 
Sorrowing  sang  among  the  hemlocks, 
And  the  Spirit  of  Sleep,  Nepahwin, 
Shut  the  doors  of  all  the  wigwams, 
From  her  bed  rose  Laughing  Water, 
Laid  aside  her  garments  wholly, 
And  with  darkness  clothed  and  guarded, 
Unashamed  and  unaJTrighted, 
Walked  securely  round  the  corn-fields, 
Drew  the  sacred,  magic  circle 
Of  her  footprints  round  the  corn-fields. 

No  one  but  the  Midnight  only 
Saw  her  beauty  in  the  darkness, 
No  one  but  the  Wawonaissa 
Heard  the  panting  of  her  bosom  ; 
Guskewau,  the  darkness,  wrapped  her 
Closely  in  his  sacred  mantle, 
So  that  none  might  see  her  beauty, 
So  that  none  might  boast,  "  I  saw  her !  * 

On  the  morrow,  as  the  day  dawned, 
Kahgahgee,  the  Kin"  of  Ravens, 
Gathered  all  his  blank  marauders, 
Crows  and  blackbirds,  jays  and  ravens, 
Clamorous  on  the  dusky  tree-tops, 
And  descended,  fast  and  fearless, 
On  the  fields  of  Hiawatha, 
On  the  grave  of  the  Mondamin. 

"We  will  drag  Mondamin,"  said  they, 
"  From  the  grave  where  he  is  buried, 
Spite  of  all  the  magic  circles 
Laughing  Water  draws  around  it, 
Spite  of  all  the  sacred  footprints 
Miuiichaha  stamps  upon  it ! " 


BLESSIXG    THE    COUX-FIELDS.  823 

But  the  wary  Hiawatha 
Ever  thoughtful,  careful,  watchful, 
Had  o'erhcard  the  scornful  laughter 
When  they  mocked  him  from  the  tree-tops. 
K  Kaw  !  "  he  said,  "  my  friends  the  ravens  I 
Kahgahgee,  my  King  of  Havens  I 
I  will  teach  you  all  a  lesson 
That  shall  not  be  soon  forgotten  ! " 

He  had  risen  before  the  daybreak, 
He  had  spread  o'er  all  the  corn-fields 
Snares  to  catch  the  black  marauders, 
And  was  lying  now  in  ambush 
In  the  neighboring  grove  of  pine-trees, 
Waiting  for  the  crows  and  blackbirds, 
Waiting  for  the  jays  and  ravens. 

Soon  they  cama  with  caw  and  clamor, 
Rush  of  wings  and  cry  of  voices, 
To  their  work  of  devastation, 
Settling  down  upon  the  corn-fields, 
Delving  deep  with  beak  and  talon, 
For  the  body  of  Mondamin. 
And  with  all  their  craft  and  cunning, 
All  their  skill  in  wiles  of  warfare, 
They  perceived  no  danger  near  them, 
Till  their  claws  became  entangled, 
Till  they  found  themselves  imprisoned 
In  the  snares  of  Hiawatha. 

From  his  place  of  ambush  came  he, 
Striding  terrible  among  them, 
And  so  awful  was  his  aspect 
That  the  bravest  quailed  with  terror. 
Without  mercy  he  destroyed  them 
Right  and  left,  by  tens  and  twenties, 
And  their  wretched,  lifeless  bodies 
Hung  aloft  on  poles  for  scarecrows 
Round  the  consecrated  corn-fields, 
As  a  signal  of  his  vengeance, 
A.S  a  warning  to  marauders. 

Only  Kahgahgee,  the  leader, 


324  THE   SONG   OF    UIAWATHA. 

Kahgahgee,  the  King  of  Ravens, 
He  alone  was  spared  among  them 
As  a  hostage  for  his  people. 
With  his  prisoner-string  lie  bound  him, 
Led  him  captive  to  his  wigwam, 
Tied  him  fast  with  cords  of  elm-bark 
To  the  ridge-pole  of  his  wigwam. 

"  Kahgahgee,  my  raven  ! "  said  he, 
"  You  the  leader  of  the  robbers, 
You  the  plotter  of  this  mischief, 
The  contriver  of  this  outrage, 
1  will  keep  you,  I  will  hold  you, 
As  a  hostage  for  your  people, 
As  a  pledge  of  good  behavior  ! " 

And  he  left  him,  grim  and  sulky, 
Sitting  in  the  morning  sunshine 
On  the  summit  of  the  wigwam, 
Croaking  fiercely  his  displeasure, 
Flapping  his  great  sable  pinions, 
Vainly  struggling  for  his  freedom, 
Vainly  calling  on  his  people  ! 

Summer  passed,  and  Shawondasse 
Breathed  his  sighs  o'er  all  the  landscape, 
From  the  South-land  sent  his  ardors, 
Wafted  kisses  warm  and  tender ; 
And  the  maize-field  grew  and  ripened, 
Till  it  stood  in  all  the  splendor 
Of  its  garments  green  and  yellow, 
Of  its  tassels  and  its  plumage, 
And  the  maize-ears  full  and  shining 
Gleamed  from  bursting  sheaths  of  verdure. 

Then  Nokomis,  the  old  woman, 
Spake,  and  said  to  Minnehaha  : 
u  T  is  the  Moon  when  leaves  arc  falling ; 
All  the  wild-rice  has  been  gathered, 
And  the  maize  is  ripe  and  ready ; 
Let  us  gather  in  the  harvest, 
Let  us  wrestle  with  Mondamin, 
Strip  him  of  his  plumes  and  tassels, 
Of  his  garments  green  and  yellow  1  * 


BLESSING   THE   CORN-FIELDS-  32S 

And  the  merry  Laughing  Water 
Went  rejoicing  from  the  wigwam, 
With  Nokomis,  old  and  wrinkled, 
And  they  called  the  women  round  them, 
Called  the  young  men  and  the  maidens, 
To  the  harvest  of  the  corn-fields, 
To  the  husking  of  the  maize-ear. 

On  the  border  of  the  forest, 
Underneath  the  fragrant  pine-trees, 
Sat  the  old  men  and  the  warriors 
Smoking  in  the  pleasant  shadow. 
In  uninterrupted  silence 
Looked  they  at  the  gamesome  labor 
Of  the  young  men  and  the  women ; 
Listened  to  their  noisy  talking, 
To  their  laughter  and  their  singing, 
Heard  them  chattering  like  the  magpies, 
Heard  them  laughing  like  the  blue-jays, 
Heard  them  singing  like  the  robins. 

And  whene'er  some  lucky  maiden 
Found  a  red  ear  in  the  husking, 
Found  a  maize-ear  red  as  blood  is, 
"  Nushka ! "  cried  they  all  together, 
"  Nushka !  you  shall  have  a  sweetheart, 
You  shall  have  a  handsome  husband  1 " 
«'  Ugh  ! "  the  old  men  all  responded 
From  their  seats  beneath  the  pine-trees. 

And  whene'er  a  youth  or  maiden 
Found  a  crooked  ear  in  husking, 
Found  a  maize-ear  in  the  husking. 
Blighted,  mildewed,  or  misshapen, 
Then  they  laughed  and  sang  together, 
Crept  and  limped  about  the  corn-fields. 
Mimicked  in  their  gait  and  gestures 
Some  old  man,  bent  almost  double, 
Sinking  singly  or  together  : 
"  Wagemin,  the  thief  of  corn-fields  ' 
Paimosaid,  who  steals  the  maize-ear  !  " 

Till  the  corn-fields  rang  with  \aughter, 


826  THE   SONQ   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Till  from  Hiawatha's  wigwam 
Kahgahgee,  the  King  of  Ravens, 
Screamed  and  quivered  in  his  anger, 
And  from  all  the  neighboring  tree-tops 
Cawed  and  croaked  the  black  marauders. 
u^Ugh !  "  the  old  men  all  responded, 
From  their  seats  beueath  the  pine-trees  t 


XIV. 

PICTURE-WRITOTO. 

IN  those  days  said  Hiawatha, 

M  Lo  !  how  all  things  lade  and  perish  I 

From  the  memory  of  the  old  men 

Pass  away  the  great  traditions, 

The  achievements  of  the  warriors, 

The  adventures  of  the  hunters, 

All  the  wisdom  of  the  Medas, 

All  the  craft  of  the  Wabenos, 

All  the  marvellous  dreams  and  visions 

Of  the  Jossakeeds,  the  Prophets ! 

"  Great  men  die  and  are  forgotten, 
Wise  men  speak ;  their  words  of  wisdom 
Perish  in  the  ears  that  hear  them, 
Do  not  reach  the  generations 
That,  as  yet  unborn,  are  waiting 
In  the  great,  mysterious  darkness 
Of  the  speechless  days  that  shall  be ! 

"  On  the  grave-posts  of  our  fathers 
Are  no  signs,  no  figures  painted ; 
Who  are  in  those  graves  we  know  not, 
Only  know  they  are  our  fathers. 
Of  what  kith  they  are  and  kindred, 
From  what  old,  ancestral  Totem, 
Be  it  Eagle,  Bear,  or  Beaver, 
They  descended,  this  we  know  not, 
Only  know  they  are  our  fathers. 

"  Face  to  face  we  speak  together, 
But  we  cannot  speak  when  absent, 
Cannot  send  our  voices  from  us 


828  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA 

To  the  friends  that  dwell  afar  off; 
Cannot  send  a  secret  message, 
But  the  bearer  learns  our  secret, 
May  pervert  it,  may  betray  it, 
May  reveal  it  unto  others." 

Thus  said  Hiawatha,  walking 
In  the  solitary  forest, 
Pondering,  musing  in  the  forest, 
On  the  welfare  of  his  people. 

From  his  pouch  he  took  his  colors, 
Took  his  paints  of  different  colors, 
On  the  smooth  bark  of  a  birch-treo 
Painted  many  shapes  and  figures, 
Wonderful  and  mystic  figures, 
And  each  figure  had  a  meaning, 
Each  some  word  or  thought  suggested 

Gitche  Manito  the  Mighty, 
He,  the  Master  of  Life,  was  painted 
As  an  egg,  with  points  projecting 
To  the  four  winds  of  the  heavens. 
Everywhere  is  the  Great  Spirit, 
Was  the  meaning  of  this  symbol 

Mitche  Manito  the  Mighty, 
He  the  dreadful  Spirit  of  Evil, 
As  a  serpent  was  depicted, 
As  Kenabeek,  the  great  serpent 
Very  crafty,  very  cunning, 
Is  the  creeping  Spirit  of  Evil, 
Was  the  meaning  of  this  symbol. 

Life  and  Death  he  drew  as  circles, 
Life  was  white,  but  Death  was  darkent  J  , 
Sun  and  moon  and  stars  he  painted, 
Man  and  beast,  and  fish  and  reptile, 
Forests,  mountains,  lakes,  and  rivers. 

For  the  earth  he  drew  a  straight  lino, 
For  the  sky  a  bow  above  it ; 
White  the  space  between  for  day-time, 
Filled  with  little  stars  for  night-time ; 
On  the  left  a  point  for  sunrise, 


PICTURE-WRITING.  829 

On  the  right  a  point  for  sunset, 
On  the  top  a  point  for  noon-tide, 
And  for  rain  and  cloudy  weather 
Waving  lines  descending  from  it. 

Footprints  pointing  towards  a  wigwam 
Were  a  sign  of  invitation, 
Were  a  sign  of  guests  assembling; 
Bloody  hands  with  palms  uplifted 
Were  a  symbol  of  destruction, 
Were  a  hostile  sign  and  symbol. 

All  these  things  did  Hiawatha 
Show  unto  his  wondering  people, 
And  interpreted  their  meaning, 
And  he  said  :  "  Behold,  your  grave-posti 
Have  no  mark,  no  sign,  nor  symbol. 
Go  and  paint  them  all  witli  figures; 
Each  one  with  its  household  symbol, 
With  its  own  ancestral  Totem ; 
So  that  those  who  follow  after 
May  distinguish  them  and  know  them." 

And  they  painted  on  the  grave-posts 
Of  the  g7-aves  yet  unforgotten, 
Each  his  own  ancestral  Totem, 
Each  the  symbol  of  his  household  ; 
Figures  of  the  Bear  and  Reindeer, 
Of  the  Turtle,  Crane,  and  Beaver, 
Each  inverted  as  a  token 
That  the  owner  was  departed, 
That  the  chief  who  bore  the  symbol 
Lay  beneath  in  dust  and  ashes. 

And  the  Jossakeeds,  the  Prophets, 
Tie  AVabenos,  the  Magicians, 
^nd  the  Medicine-men,  the  Mcdas, 
Painted  upon  bark  and  deer-skin 
Figures  for  the  songs  they  chanted, 
For  each  song  a  separate  symbol, 
Figures  mystical  and  awful, 
Figures  strange  and  brightly  colored: 
And  each  figure  had  its  meaning, 
Each  some  magic  song  suggested. 


830  THE   SOXO   OF   HIAWATHA. 

The  Great  Spirit  the  Creator, 
Flashing  light  through  all  the  heaven; 
The  Great  Serpent,  the  Kcnabeek, 
With  his  bloody  crest  erected, 
Creeping,  looking  into  heaven  ; 
In  the  sky  the  sun,  that  listens, 
And  the  moon  eclipsed  and  dying; 
Owl  and  eagle,  crane  and  hen-hawk, 
And  the  cormorant,  bird  of  magic ; 
Headless  men,  that  walk  the  heavens, 
Bodies  Iving  pierced  with  arrows, 
Bloody  fiands  of  death  uplifted, 
Flags  on  graves,  and  great  war-captains 
Grasping  both  the  earth  and  heaven  ! 

Such  as  these  the  shapes  they  painted 
On  the  birch-bark  and  the  deer-skin ; 
Songs  of  war  and  songs  of  hunting, 
Songs  of  medicine  and  of  magic, 
All  were  written  in  these  figures, 
For  each  figure  had  its  moaning, 
Each  its  separate  song  recorded. 

Nor  forgotten  was  the  Love-Song, 
The  most  subtle  of  all  medicines, 
The  most  potent  spell  of  magic, 
Dangerous  more  than  war  or  hunting! 
Thus  the  Love-Song  was  recorded, 
Symbol  and  interpretation. 

First  a  human  figure  standing, 
Painted  in  the  brightest  scarlet; 
'T  is  the  lover,  the  musician, 
And  the  meaning  is,  •'  My  painting 
Makes  me  powerful  over  others." 

Then  the  figure  seated,  singing, 
Playing  on  a  drum  of  magic, 
And  the  interpretation,  "  Listen  1 
'T  is  my  voice  you  hear,  my  singing .  * 

Then  the  same  red  figure  seated 
I"*  the  shelter  of  a  wigwam, 
A  *d  the  meaning  of  the  symbol, 


PICTURE-WRITISO.  831 

*  1  will  come  and  sit  beside  you 
In  the  mystery  of  my  passion  ! " 

Then  two  figures,  man  and  woman, 
Standing  hand  in  hand  together, 
With  their  hands  so  clasped  together 
That  they  seem  in  one  united, 
And  the  words  thus  represented 
Are,  ''  I  see  your  heart  within  you, 
And  your  cheeks  are  red  with  blushes  !  * 

Next  the  maiden  on  an  island, 
In  the  centre  of  an  island ; 
And  the  song  this  shape  suggested 
Was,  "  Though  you  were  at  a  distance, 
Were  upon  some  far-off  island, 
Such  the  spell  I  cast  upon  you, 
Such  the  magic  power  of  passion, 
I  could  straightway  draw  you  to  me  1 " 

Then  the  figure  of  the  maiden 
Sleeping,  and  the  lover  near  her, 
Whispering  to  her  in  her  slumbers, 
Saying,  "  Though  you  were  far  from  me 
In  the  land  of  Sleep  and  Silence, 
Still  the  voice  of  love  would  reach  you  t  * 

And  the  last  of  all  the  figures 
Was  a  heart  within  a  circle, 
Drawn  within  a  magic  circle  ; 
And  the  image  had  this  meaning : 
"  Naked  lies  your  heart  before  me, 
To  your  naked  heart  I  whisper  !  " 

Thus  it  was  that  Hiawatha, 
In  his  wisdom,  taught  the  people 
All  the  mysteries  of  painting, 
All  the  art  of  Picture- Writing, 
On  the  smooth  bark  of  the  birch-tree, 
On  the  white  skin  of  the  reindeer, 
On  the  grave-posts  of  the  village. 


XV 

HIAWATHA'S  LAMEXTATIOH. 

Lv  those  days  the  Evil  Spirits, 
All  the  Manitos  of  mischief, 
Fearing  Hiawatha's  wisdom, 
And  his  love  for  Chibiahos, 
Jealous  of  their  faithful  friendship, 
And  their  noble  words  and  actions, 
Made  at  length  a  league  against  them, 
To  molest  them  and  destroy  them. 

Hiawatha,  wise  and  wary, 
Often  said  to  Chibiabos, 
"  O  my  brother  i  do  not  leave  me, 
Lest  the  Evil  Spirits  harm  you  !  " 
Chibiabos,  young  and  heedless, 
Laughing  shook  his  coal-black  tresses, 
Answered  ever  sweet  and  childlike, 
"  Do  not  fear  1'or  me,  O  brother  ! 
Harm  and  evil  come  not  near  me ! " 

Once  when  Peboan,  the  Winter, 
Roofed  with  ice  the  Big- Sea- Water, 
When  the  snow-Hakes,  whirling  downward, 
Hissed  among  the  withered  oak-leaves, 
Changed  the  pine-trees  into  wigwams, 
Covered  all  the  earth  with  silence, — 
Armed  with  arrows,  shod  with  snow-shoes, 
Heeding  not  his  brother's  warning, 
Fearing  not  the  Evil  Spirits, 
Forth  to  hunt  the  deer  with  antlers 
All  alone  went  Chibiabos. 

Itight  across  the  liig-Sca-Watci 
Sprang  with  speed  the  deer  before  him. 
With  the  wind  and  snow  he  followed, 
O'er  the  treacherous  ice  he  followed, 


HIAWATHA'S  LAMENTATION.  838 

Wild  -with  all  the  fierce  commotion 
And  the  rapture  of  the  hunting. 

But  beneath,  the  Evil  Spirits 
Lay  in  ambush,  waiting  for  him, 
Broke  the  treacherous  ice  beneath  him, 
Dragged  him  downward  to  the  bottom, 
Buried  in  the  sand  his  body. 
Uriktahee,  the  god  of  water, 
He  the  god  of  the  Dacotahs, 
Drowned  him  in  the  deep  abysses 
Of  the  lake  of  Gitche  Gumee. 

From  the  headlands  Hiawatha 
Sent  forth  such  a  wail  of  anguish, 
Such  a  fearful  lamentation, 
That  the  bison  paused  to  listen, 
And  the  wolves  howled  from  the  prairies, 
And  the  thunder  in  the  distance 
Starting  answered  "  Baim-wawa !  " 

Then  his  face  with  black  he  painted, 
With  his  robe  his  head  he  covered, 
In  his  wigwam  sat  lamenting, 
Seven  long  weeks  he  sat  lamenting, 
Uttering  still  this  moan  of  sorrow  : — 

"  He  is  dead,  the  sweet  musician  ! 
He  the  sweetest  of  all  singers  i 
He  has  gone  from  us  forever, 
He  has  moved  a  little  nearer 
To  the  Master  of  all  music, 
To  the  Master  of  all  singing  ! 
O  my  brother,  Chibiabos  !  " 

And  the  melancholy  fir-trees 
Waved  their  dark  green  fans  above  him, 
Waved  their  purple  cones  above  him, 
Sighing  with  him  to  console  him, 
Mingling  with  his  lamentation 
Their  complaining,  their  lamenting. 

Came  the  Spring,  and  all  the  forest 
Looked  in  vain  for  Chibiabos ; 
Sighed  the  rivulet,  Sebowisha, 
Sighed  the  rushes  in  the  meadow. 


834  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

From  the  tree-tops  sang  the  blue-bird, 
Sang  the  blue-bird,  the  Owaissa, 
"  Cliibiabos !  Chibiabos  1 
He  is  dead,  the  sweet  musician  ! " 

From  the  wigwam  sang  the  robin, 
Sang  the  robin,  the  Opechee, 
"Chibiabos!  Chibiabos! 
lie  is  dead,  the  sweetest  singer  ! " 

And  at  night  through  all  the  forest 
Went  the  whippoorwill  complaining, 
"Wailing  went  the  Wawonaissa, 
"  Chibiabos  !  Chibiabos  ! 
He  is  dead,  the  sweet  musician  ! 
He  the  sweetest  of  all  singers  !  " 

Then  the  medicine-men,  the  Medat 
The  magicians,  the  Wabenos, 
And  the  Jossakeeds,  the  prophets, 
Came  to  visit  Hiawatha ; 
Built  a  Sacred  Lodge  beside  him, 
To  appease  him,  to  console  him. 
Walked  in  silent,  grave  procession, 
Bearing  each  a  pouch  of  healing, 
Skin  ot  beaver,  lynx,  or  otter, 
Filled  with  magic  roots  and  simples, 
Filled  with  very  potent  medicines. 

When  he  heard  their  steps  approaching 
Hiawatha  ceased  lamenting, 
Called  no  more  on  Chibiabos ; 
Naught  he  questioned,  naught  he  answered 
But  liis  mournful  head  uncovered, 
From  his  face  the  mourning  colors 
Washed  he  slowly  and  in  silence, 
Slowly  and  in  silence  followed 
Onwa'rd  to  the  Sacred  Wigwam. 

There  a  magic  drink  they  gave  him, 
Made  of  Nahma-wusk,  the  spearmint, 
And  Wabeno-wusk,  the  yarrow, 
Roots  of  power,  and  herbs  of  healing ; 
Beat  their  drums,  and  shook  their  rattles  ; 


HIAWATHA'S  LAMENTATION.  885 

Chanted  singly  and  in  chorus, 
Mystic  songs  like  these,  they  chanted. 

"  I  myself,  myself '  behold  me  ! 
T  is  the  great  Gray  Eagle  talking ; 
Come,  ye  white  crows,  come  and  hear  him  I 
The  loud-speaking  thunder  helps  me ; 
All  the  unseen  spirits  help  me ; 
I  can  hear  their  voices  calling, 
All  around  the  sky  I  hear  them ! 
I  can  blow  you  strong,  my  brother, 
I  can  heal  you,  Hiawatha  ! " 

"  Hi-au-ha  !  "  replied  the  chorus, 
M  Way-ha-way  ! "  the  mystic  chorus. 

"  Friends  of  mine  are  all  the  serpents  I 
Hear  me  shake  my  skin  of  hen-hawk  ! 
Mahng,  the  white  loon,  I  can  kill  him ; 
I  can  shoot  your  heart  and  kill  it ! 
I  can  blow  you  strong,  my  brother, 
I  can  heal  you,  Hiawatha  !  " 

"  Hi-au-ha !  "  replied  the  chorus. 
"  Way-ha-way !  "  the  mystic  chorus. 

"  I  myself,  myself!  the  prophet ! 
When  I  speak  the  wigwam  trembles, 
Shakes  the  Sacred  Lodge  with  terror, 
Hands  unseen  begin  to  shake  it ! 
When  I  walk,  the  sky  I  tread  on 
Bends  and  makes  a  noise  beneath  me  I 
I  can  blow  you  strong,  my  brother  1 
Rise  and  speak,  O  Hiawatha  !  " 

"  FJ-au-ha  !  "  replied  the  chorus, 
u  Way-ha-way  !  "  the  mystic  chorus. 

Then  they  shook  their  medicine-pouches 
O'er  the  head  of  Hiawatha, 
Danced  their  medicine-dance  around  him ; 
And  upstarting  wild  and  haggard, 
Like  a  man  from  dreams  awakened, 
He  was  healed  of  all  his  madness. 
As  the  clouds  are  swept  from  heaven, 
Straightway  from  his  brain  departed 


836  THE   SOXG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

All  his  moody  melancholy  ; 
As  the  ice  is  swept  from  rivers, 
Straightway  from  his  heart  departed 
All  his  sorrow  and  affliction. 

Then  they  summoned  Chibiabos 
From  his  grave  beneath  the  waters, 
From  the  sands  of  Gitche  Gumee 
Summoned  Hiawatha's  brother. 
And  so  mighty  was  the  magic 
Of  that  cry  and  invocation, 
That  he  heard  it  as  he  lay  there 
Underneath  the  Big-Sea-Water ; 
From  the  sand  he  rose  and  listened, 
Heard  the  music  and  the  singing, 
Came,  obedient  to  the  summons, 
To  the  doorway  of  the  wigwam, 
But  to  enter  they  forbade  him. 

Through  a  chink  a  coal  they  gave  him, 
Through  the  door  a  burning  (ire-brand  ; 
Ruler  in  the  Land  of  Spirits, 
Ruler  o'er  the  dead,  they  made  him, 
Telling  him  a  fire  to  kindle 
For  all  those  that  died  thereafter, 
Camp-fires  for  their  night  encampments 
On  their  solitary  journey 
To  the  kingdom  of  Ponemah, 
To  the  land  of  the  Hereafter. 

From  the  village  of  his  childhood, 
From  the  homes  of  those  who  knew  him, 
Passing  silent  through  the  forest, 
Like  a  smoke-wreath  wafted  sideways, 
Slowly  vanished  Chibiabos ! 
Where  he  passed,  the  branches  moved  not, 
Where  he  trod,  the  grasses  bent  not, 
And  the  fallen  leaves  of  last  year 
Made  no  sound  beneath  his  footsteps. 

Four  whole  days  he  journeyed  onward 
Down  the  pathway  of  the  dead  men ; 
On  the  dead  man's  strawberrv  feasted, 


HIAWATHA'S  LAMENTATION.  837 

I 

Crossed  the  melancholy  river, 
On  the  swinging  log  he  crossed  it, 
Came  unto  the  Lake  of  Silver, 
In  the  Stone  Canoe  was  carried 
To  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed, 
To  the  land  of  ghosts  and  shadows. 

On  that  journey,  moving  slowly, 
Many  weary  spirits  saw  he, 
Panting  under  heavy  burdens, 
Laden  with  war-clubs,  bows  and  arrows, 
Robes  of  fur,  and  pots  and  kettles, 
And  with  food  that  friends  had  given 
For  that  solitary  journey. 

"  Ah !  why  do  the  living,"  said  they, 
"  Lay  such  heavy  burdens  on  us ! 
Better  were  it  to  go  naked, 
Better  were  it  to  go  fasting, 
Than  to  bear  such  heavy  burdens 
On  our  long  and  weary  journey  1 " 

Forth  then  issued  Hiawatha, 
Wandered  eastward,  wandered  westward, 
Teaching  men  the  use  of  simples 
And  the  antidotes  for  poisons, 
And  the  cure  of  all  diseases. 
Thus  was  first  made  known  to  mortal* 
All  the  mystery  of  Medamin, 
Ail  the  sacred  art  of  healing. 


VOL.  II. 


XVL 

PAU-I>UK-KEE\VI8. 

You  shall  hear  how  Pau-Puk-Keewta 
He,  the  liandsome  Yenadizzc, 
Whom  the  people  called  the  Storm  Foot, 
Vexed  the  village  with  disturbance, 
You  shall  hear  of  all  his  mischief, 
And  his  flight  from  Hiawatha, 
And  his  wondrous  transmigrations, 
And  the  end  of  his  adventures. 

On  the  shores  of  Gitche  Gumee, 
On  the  dunes  of  Nagow  Wudjoo, 
By  the  shining  Big-Sea-Water 
Stood  the  lodge  of  Pau-Puk-Kcewis. 
It  was  he  who  in  his  frenzy 
Whirled  these  drifting  sands  together, 
On  the  dunes  of  Nagow  Wudjoo, 
When,  among  the  guests  assembled, 
He  so  merrily  and  madly 
Danced  at  Hiawatha's  wedding, 
Danced  the  Beggar's  Dance  to  please 

Now,  in  search  of  new  adventures, 
From  his  lodge  went  Pau-Puk-Kcewis, 
Came  with  speed  into  the  village, 
Found  the  young  men  all  assembled 
Jn  the  lodge  of  old  lagoo, 
Listening  to  his  monstrous  stories, 
To  his  wonderful  adventures. 

He  was  telling  them  the  story 
Of  Ojceg,  the  Summer-Maker, 
How  he  made  a  hole  in  heaven, 
How  he  climbed  up  into  heaven, 
And  let  out  the  Summer- weather, 
The  perpetual,  pleasant  Summer  , 


PAU-PUK-KEEW18.  339 

How  the  Otter  first  essayed  it ; 
How  the  Beaver,  Lynx,  and  Badger 
Tried  in  turn  the  great  achievement, 
From  the  summit  of  the  mountain 
Smote  their  fists  against  the  heavens, 
Smote  against  the  sky  their  foreheads, 
Cracked  the  sky,  but  could  not  break  it ; 
How  the  Wolverine,  uprising, 
Made  him  ready  for  the  encounter, 
Bent  his  knees  down,  like  a  squirrel, 
Drew  his  arms  back,  like  a  cricket. 

"  Once  he  leaped,"  said  old  lagoo, 
u  Once  he  leaped,  and  lo !  above  him 
Bent  the  sky,  as  ice  in  rivers 
When  the  waters  rise  beneath  It ; 
Twice  he  leaped,  and  lo  !  above  him 
Cracked  the  sky,  as  ice  in  rivers 
When  the  freshet  is  at  highest ! 
Thrice  he  leaped,  and  lo  !  above  him 
Broke  the  shattered  sky  asunder, 
And  he  disappeared  within  it, 
And  Ojccg,  the  Fisher  Weasel, 
With  a  bound  went  in  behind  him  !  " 

"  Hark  you  1"  shouted  Pau-Puk-Keewia 
As  he  entered  at  the  doorway ; 
"  I  am  tired  of  all  this  talking, 
Tired  of  old  lagoo's  stories, 
Tired  of  Hiawatha's  wisdom. 
Here  is  something  to  amuse  you, 
Better  than  this  endless  talking." 

Then  from  out  his  pouch  of  wolf-skin 
Forth  he  drew,  with  solemn  manner, 
All  the  game  of  Bowl  and  Counters, 
Pugasaing,  with  thirteen  pieces. 
White  on  one  side  were  they  painted, 
And  vermilion  on  cne  other  ; 
Two  Kenabeeks  or  great  serpents, 
Two  Ininewug  or  wedge-men, 
One  great  war-club,  Pugamaugun, 


840  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

And  one  slender  fish,  the  Kcego, 

Four  round  pieces,  O/awabeeks, 

And  three  Sheshebwug  or  ducklings. 

All  were  made  of  bone  and  painted, 

All  except  the  Ozawabceks  ; 

These  were  brass,  on  one  side  burnished, 

And  were  black  upon  the  other. 

In  a  wooden  bowl  he  placed  them, 
Shook  and  jostled  them  together, 
Threw  them  on  the  ground  before  him, 
Thus  exclaiming  and  explaining  • 
"  lied  side  up  are  all  the  pieces, 
And  one  great  Kenabeek  standing 
On  the  bright  side  of  a  brass  piece, 
On  a  burnished  Ozawabeek  ; 
Thirteen  tens  and  eight  arc  counted." 

Then  again  he  shook  the  pieces, 
Shook  and  jostled  them  together, 
Threw  them  on  the  ground  before  him, 
Still  exclaiming  and  explaining  : 
"  White  are  both  the  great  Kenabeeks, 
White  the  Ininewug,  the  wedge-men, 
Red  are  all  the  other  pieces  ; 
Five  tens  and  an  eight  are  counted." 

Thus  he  taught  the  game  of  hazard, 
Thus  displayed  it  and  explained  it, 
Running  through  its  various  chances, 
Various  changes,  various  meanings  : 
Twenty  curious  eyes  stared  at  him. 
Full  of  eagerness  stared  at  him. 

"  Many  games,"  said  old  lagoo, 
"  Many  games  of  skill  and  hazard 
Have  I  seen  in  diilerent  nations, 
Have  I  played  in  diilerent  countries. 
He  who  plays  with  old  lagoo 
Must  have  very  nimble  lingers; 
Though  you  think  yourself  so  skilful 
I  can  beat  you,  I'au-Puk-Keewis, 
1  can  even  give  you  lessons 
In  your  game  of  Bowl  and  Counters  I" 


PAU-PUK-KEE\VIS.  841 

So  they  sat  and  played  together, 
All  the  old  men  and  the  young  men, 
Played  for  dresses,  weapons,  wampum, 
Played  till  midnight,  played  till  morning, 
Played  until  the  Ycnadizze, 
Till  the  cunning  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Of  their  treasures  had  despoiled  them, 
Of  the  best  of  all  their  dresses, 
Shirts  of  deer-skin,  robes  of  ermine, 
Belts  of  wampum,  crests  of  feathers, 
Warlike  weapons,  pipes  and  pouches. 
Twenty  eyes  glared  wildly  at  him, 
Like  the  eyes  of  wolves  glared  at  him. 

Said  the  lucky  Pau-Puk-Kecwis : 
"  In  my  wigwam  I  am  lonely, 
In  my  wanderings  and  adventures 
I  have  need  of  a  companion, 
Fain  would  have  a  Meshinauwa, 
An  attendant  and  pipe-bearer. 
I  will  venture  all  these  winnings, 
All  these  garments  heaped  about  me, 
All  this  wampum,  all  these  feathers, 
On  a  single  throw  will  venture 
All  against  the  young  man  yonder  I 
'T  was  a  youth  of  sixteen  summers, 
'T  was  a  nephew  of  lagoo  ; 
Face-in-a-Mist,  the  people  called  him. 

As  the  fire  burns  in  a  pipe-head 
Dusky  red  beneath  the  ashes, 
So  beneath  his  shaggy  eyebrows 
Glowed  the  eyes  of  old  Jagoo. 
"  Ugh  !  "  he  answered  very  ficrcejy; 
u  Ugh  !"  they  answered  all  and  each  one. 

Seized  the  wooden  bowl  the  old  man, 
Closely  in  his  bony  fingers 
Clutched  the  fatal  bowl,  Onagon, 
Shook  it  fiercely  and  with  fury, 
Made  the  pieces  ring  together 
^s  he  threw  them  down  before  him. 


542  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

Red  were  both  the  great  Kenabeeks, 
Red  the  Ininewug,  the  wedge-men, 
Red  the  Slieshcbwug,  the  ducklings, 
Black  the  four  brass  Ozawabceks, 
White  alone  the  fish,  the  Keego ; 
Only  five  the  pieces  counted  ! 

Then  the  smiling  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Shook  the  bowl  and  threw  the  pieces; 
Lightly  in  the  air  he  tossed  them, 
And  they  fell  about  him  scattered  ; 
Dark  and  bright  the  Ozawabeeks, 
Red  and  white  the  other  pieces, 
And  upright  among  the  others 
One  Ininewug  was  standing, 
Even  as  crafty  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Stood  alone  among  the  players, 
Saving,  "  Five  tens  !  mine  the  game  is ! " 

Twenty  eyes  glared  at  him  fiercely, 
Like  the  eyes  of  wolves  glared  at  him, 
As  he  turned  and  led  the  wigwam, 
Followed  by  his  Meshinauwa, 
By  the  nenhew  of  lagoo, 
By  the  tall  and  graceful  stripling, 
Bearing  in  his  arms  the  winnings, 
Shirts  of  deer-skin,  robes  of  ermine, 
Belts  of  wampum,  pipes  and  weapons, 

"  Carry  them,"  said  Pan-Puk-Keewis, 
Pointing  with  his  fan  of  feathers, 
"  To  my  wigwam  far  to  eastward, 
On  the  dunes  of  Nagow  Wudjoo  !" 

Hot  and  red  with  smoke  and  gambling 
Were  the  eyes  of  Pau-Puk-Kccwis 
As  he  came  forth  to  the  freshness 
Of  the  pleasant  Summer  morning. 
All  the  birds  were  singing  gayly, 
All  the  streamlets  flowing  swiftly, 
And  the  heart  of  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Sang  with  pleasure  as  the  birds  sing, 
Beat  with  triumph  like  the  streamlets, 


PAU-PUK-KEEWIS.  343 

As  he  wandered  through  the  village, 

In  the  early  gray  of  morning, 

With  his  fan  of  turkey-feathers, 

With  his  plumes  and  tufts  of  swan's  do\rn, 

Till  he  reached  the  farthest  wigwam, 

Reached  the  lodge  of  Hiawatha. 

Silent  was  it  and  deserted  ; 
No  one  met  him  at  the  doorway, 
No  one  came  to  bid  him  welcome ; 
But  the  birds  were  singing  round  it, 
In  and  out  and  round  the  doorway, 
Hopping,  singing,  fluttering,  feeding, 
And  aloft  upon  the  ridge-pole 
Kahgahgee,  the  King  of  Havens, 
Sat  with  fiery  eyes,  and,  screaming, 
Flapped  his  wings  at  Pau-Puk-Keewia. 

"  All  are  gone !  the  lodge  is  empty  I " 
Thus  it  was  spake  Pau-Puk-Kecwis, 
In  his  heart  resolving  mischief; 
"  Gone  is  wary  Hiawatha, 
Gone  the  silly  Laughing  Water, 
Gone  Nokomis,  the  old  woman, 
And  the  lodge  is  left  unguarded ! " 

By  the  neck  he  seized  the  raven, 
Whirled  it  round  him  like  a  rattle, 
Like  a  medicine-pouch  he  shook  it, 
Strangled  Kahgahgee,  the  raven, 
From  the  ridge-pole  of  the  wigwam 
Left  its  lifeless  body  hanging, 
As  an  insult  to  its  master, 
As  a  taunt  to  Hiawatha. 

With  a  stealthy  step  he  entered, 
Round  the  lodge  in  wild  disorder 
Threw  the  household  things  about  him, 
Piled  together  in  confusion 
Bowls  ot  wood  and  earthen  kettles, 
Robes  of  bull'alo  and  beaver, 
Skins  of  otter,  lynx,  and  ermine, 


344  THE   SOXG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

As  an  insult  to  Nokomis, 
As  a  taunt  to  Minnehaha. 

Then  departed  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Whistling,  singing  through  the  forest, 
Whistling  gayly  to  the  squirrels, 
Who  from  hollow  boughs  above  him 
Dropped  their  acorn-shells  upon  him, 
Singing  gayly  to  the  wood-birds, 
Who  from  out  the  leafy  darkness 
Answered  with  a  song  as  merry. 

Then  he  climbed  the  rocky  headlands, 
Looking  o'er  the  Gitche  Gumee, 
Perched  himself  upon  their  summit, 
Waiting  full  of  mirth  and  mischief 
The  return  of  Hiawatha. 

Stretched  upon  his  back  he  lay  there ; 
Far  below  him  plashed  the  waters, 
Plashed  and  washed  the  dreamy  waters ; 
Far  above  him  swam  the  heavens, 
Swam  the  dizzy,  dreamy  heavens  ; 
Round  him  hovered,  fluttered,  rustled, 
Hiawatha's  mountain  chickens, 
Flock-wise  swept  and  wheeled  about  him, 
Almost  brushed  him  with  their  pinions. 

And  he  killed  them  as  he  lay  there, 
Slaughtered  them  by  tens  and  twenties, 
Threw  their  bodies  down  the  headland, 
Threw  them  on  the  beach  below  him, 
Till  at  length  Kayoshk,  the  sea-gull, 
Perched  upon  a  crag  above  them, 
Shouted  :  "  It  is  Pau-Puk-Keewis  ! 
He  is  slaying  us  by  hundreds  1 
Send  a  message  to  our  brother, 
Tidings  send  to  liiawatlia  1 " 


xvn. 

TEE    HUXTIXG   OF    PATJ-PUK- 

FCLI,  of  wrath  was  Hiawatha 
When  he  came  into  the  village, 
Found  the  people  in  confusion, 
Heard  of  all  the  misdemeanors, 
All  the  malice  and  the  mischief, 
Of  the  cunning  Pan-Puk-Keewis. 

Hard  his  breath  came  through  his  nostrils, 
Through  his  teeth  he  buzzed  and  muttered 
Words  of  anger  and  resentment, 
Hot  and  humming,  like  a  hornet. 
"  I  will  slay  this  Pau-Puk-Kcewis, 
Slay  this  mischief-maker  !  "  said  he. 
"  Not  so  long  and  wide  the  world  is, 
Not  so  rude  and  rough  the  way  is, 
That  my  wrath  shall  not  attain  him. 
That  my  vengeance  shall  not  reach  him ! " 

Then  in  swift  pursuit  departed 
Hiawatha  and  the  hunters 
On  the  trail  of  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Through  the  forest,  where  he  passed  it, 
To  the  headlands  where  he  rested ; 
But  they  found  not  Pau-Puk-Kecwis, 
Only  in  the  trampled  grasses, 
In  the  whortleberry-bushes, 
Found  the  couch  where  he  had  rested, 
Found  the  impress  of  his  body. 

From  the  lowlands  far  beneath  them, 
From  the  Muskoday,  the  meadow, 
Pau-Puk-Keewis,  turning  backward, 
Made  a  gesture  of  defiance, 
Made  a  gesture  of  derision  ; 
And  alcud  cried  Hiawatha, 


846  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA 

From  the  summit  of  the  mountain  : 
"  Not  so  long  and  wide  the  world  is, 
Not  so  rude  and  rough  the  way  is," 
But  uiy  wrath  shall  overtake  you, 
And  my  vengeance  shall  attain  you  1" 

Over  rock  and  over  river, 
Thorough  bush,  and  brake,  and  forest, 
Ran  the  cunning  Pau-Puk-Keewis ; 
Like  an  antelope  he  bounded, 
Till  he  came  unto  a  streamlet 
In  the  middle  of  the  forest, 
To  a  streamlet  still  and  tranquil, 
That  had  overflowed  its  margin, 
To  a  dam  made  by  the  beavers, 
To  a  pond  of  quiet  water, 
Where  knee-deep  the  trees  were  standing, 
Where  the  water-lilies  floated, 
Where  the  rushes  waved  and  whispered. 

On  the  dam  stood  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
On  the  dam  of  trunks  and  branches, 
Through  whose  chinks  the  water  spouted, 
O'er  whose  summit  flowed  the  streamlet, 
.From  the  bottom  rose  a  beaver, 
Looked  with  two  great  eyes  of  wonder, 
Eyes  that  seemed  to  ask  a  question, 
At  the  stranger,  Pau-Puk-Kcewis. 

On  the  dam  stood  Pau-Puk-Kcewia, 
O'er  his  ankles  flowed  the  streamlet, 
Flowed  the  bright  and  silvery  water, 
And  he  spake  unto  the  beaver, 
With  a  smile  he  spake  in  this  wise  : 

"  O  my  friend  Ahmeek,  the  beaver, 
Cool  and  pleasant  is  the  water ; 
Let  me  dive  into  the  water, 
Let  me  rest  there  in  your  lodges ; 
Change  me,  too,  into  a  beaver ! " 

Cautiously  replied  the  beaver, 
With  reserve  he  thus  made  answer: 
M  Let  me  first  consult  tlic  others, 


THE   HUNTING    OF   PAU-PUK-KEKWIS.       847 

Let  me  ask  the  other  beavers." 
Down  he  sank  into  the  water. 
Heavily  sank  he,  as  a  stone  sinks, 
Down  among  the  leaves  and  branches, 
Brown  and  matted  at  the  bottom. 

On  the  dam  stood  Pau-Puk-Kcewia, 
O'er  his  ankles  flowed  the  streamlet. 
Spouted  through  the  chinks  below  him, 
Dashed  upon  the  stones  beneath  him, 
Spread  serene  and  calm  before  him, 
And  the  sunshine  and  the  shadows 
Fell  in  flecks  and  gleams  upon  him, 
Fell  in  little  shining  patches, 
Through  the  waving,  rustling  branches. 

From  the  bottom  rose  the  beavers, 
Silently  above  the  surface 
Rose  one  head  and  then  another, 
Till  the  pond  seemed  full  of  beavers, 
Full  of  black  and  shining  faces. 

To  the  beavers  Pau-Puk-Kcewis 
Spake  entreating,  said  in  this  wise : 
"  Very  pleasant  is  your  dwelling, 
O  my  friends  !  and  safe  from  danger ; 
Can  you  not  with  all  your  cunning, 
All  your  wisdom  and  contrivance, 
Change  me,  too,  into  a  beaver  V  " 

"  Yes ! "  replied  Ahnieek,  the  beaver, 
He  the  King  of  all  the  beavers, 
"  Let  yourself  slide  down  among  us, 
Down  into  the  tranquil  water." 

Down  into  the  pond  among  them 
Silently  sank  Pau-Puk-Kccwis ; 
Black  became  his  shirt  of  deer-skin, 
Black  his  moccasins  and  leggings, 
In  a  broad  black  tail  behind  him 
Spread  his  fox-tails  and  his  fringes ; 
tie  was  changed  into  a  beaver. 

"  Make  me  largo,"  said  Pau-Puk-Keewi*, 
*  Make  me  large  and  nuke  me  larger, 


S48  THE   SOXG    OF    HIAWATHA. 

Larger  than  the  other  heavers." 
u  Yes,"  the  beaver  chief  responded, 
"  When  our  lodge  below  you  enter, 
In  our  wigwam  we  will  make  you 
Ten  times  larger  than  the  others." 

Thus  into  the  clear,  brown  water 
Silently  sank  1'au-Puk-Keewis ; 
Found  the  bottom  covered  over 
With  the  trunks  of  trees  and  branches. 
Hoards  of  food  against  the  winter, 
Piles  and  heaps  against  the  famine, 
Found  the  lodge  with  arching  doorway, 
Leading  into  spacious  chambers. 

Here  they  made  him  large  and  larger 
Made  him  largest  of  the  beavers, 
Ten  times  larger  than  the  others. 
"  You  shall  be  our  ruler,"  said  they  ; 
"  Chief  and  king  of  all  the  beavers." 

But  not  long  had  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Sat  in  state  among  the  beavers, 
When  there  came  a  voice  of  warning 
From  the  watchman  at  his  station 
In  the  water-Hags  and  lilies, 
Saying,  "  Here  is  Hiawatha! 
Hiawatha  with  his  hunters  !  " 

Then  they  heard  a  cry  above  them, 
Heard  a  shouting  and  a  tramping, 
Heard  a  crashing  and  a  rushing, 
And  the  water  round  and  o'er  them 
Sank  and  sucked  away  in  eddies, 
And  they  knew  their  dam  was  broken. 

On  the  lodge's  roof  the  hunters 
Leaped,  and  broke  it  all  asunder; 
Streamed  the  sunshine  through  the  crevice, 
Sprang  the  beavers  through  the  doorway, 
Hid  themselves  in  deeper  water, 
In  the  channel  of  the  streamlet ; 
But  the  mighty  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Could  uot  pass  beneath  the  doorway ; 


THE  HUNTING  OF  PAU-PUK-KJEEWIS.      849 

He  was  puffed  with  pride  and  feeding, 
He  was  swollen  like  a  bladder. 

Through  the  roof  looked  Hiawatha, 
Cried  aloud,  "  O  Pau-Puk-Keewis  I 
Vain  are  all  your  crai't  and  cunning, 
Vain  your  manifold  disguises  ! 
Well  I  know  you,  Pau-Puk-Kecwis  ! " 

With  their  clubs  they  beat  and  bruised  him, 
Beat  to  death  poor  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Pounded  him  as  maize  is  pounded, 
Till  his  skull  was  crushed  to  pieces. 

Six  tall  hunters,  lithe  and  limber, 
Bore  him  home  on  poles  and  branches, 
Bore  the  body  of  the  beaver; 
But  the  ghost,  the  Jecbi  in  him, 
Thought  and  felt  as  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Still  lived  on  as  Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

And  it  fluttered,  strove,  and  struggled, 
Waving  hither,  waving  thither, 
As  the  curtains  of  a  wigwam 
Struggle  with  their  thongs  of  deer-skin, 
When  the  wintry  wind  is  blowing; 
Till  it  drew  itself  together, 
Till  it  rose  up  from  the  body, 
Till  it  took  the  form  and  features 
Of  the  cunning  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Vanishing  into  the  forest. 

But  the  wary  Hiawatha 
Saw  the  figure  ere  it  vanished, 
Saw  the  form  of  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Glide  into  the  soft  blue  shadow          , 
Of  the  pine-trees  of  the  forest ; 
Toward  the  squares  of  white  beyond  it, 
Toward  an  opening  in  the  forest, 
Like  a  wind  it  rushed  and  panted, 
Bending  all  the  boughs  before  it, 
And  behind  it,  as  the  rain  comes, 
Came  the  steps  of  Hiawatha. 

To  a  lake  with  many  islands 


850  THE   SONG    OF   JIIAWATHA. 

Came  the  breathless  Pau-Puk-Keewia, 
Where  among  the  water-lilies 
Pishnukuh,  the  brant,  were  sailing; 
Through  the  tufts  of  rushes  floating, 
Steering  through  the  rcudv  islands. 
Now  their  broad  black  beaks  they  lifted, 
Now  they  plunged  beneath  the  water, 
Now  they  darkened  in  the  shadow, 
Now  they  brightened  in  the  sunshine. 

"  Pishnckuh  !  "  cried  Pao-Puk-Keewfc, 
"  Pishnekuh  !  my  brothers  ! "  said  he, 
"  Change  me  to  a  brant  with  plumage, 
With  a  shining  neck  and  leathers, 
Make  me  large,  and  make  me  larger, 
Ten  times  larger  than  the  others." 

Straightway  to  a  brant  they  changed  him, 
With  two  huge  and  dusky  pinions, 
With  a  bosom  smooth  and  rounded, 
With  a  bill  like  two  great  paddles, 
Made  him  larger  than  the  others, 
Ten  times  larger  than  the  largest, 
Just  as,  shouting  from  the  forest, 
On  the  shore  stood  Hiawatha. 

Up  they  rose  with  cry  and  clamor, 
With  a  whirr  and  beat  of  pinious, 
Rose  up  from  the  reedy  islands, 
From  the  water-flags  and  lilies. 
And  they  said  to  Pau-Puk-Kccwis : 
"In  your  flying,  look  not  downward, 
Take  good  heed,  and  look  not  downward, 
Lest  some  strange  mischance  should  happen, 
Lest  some  great  mishap  befall  you  !" 

Fast  and  far  they  fled  to  northward, 
Fast  and  far  through  mist  and  smishiue, 
Fed  among  the  moors  and  fen-lands, 
Slept  among  the  reeds  and  rushes. 

On  the  morrow  as  they  journeyed, 
Buoved  and  lifted  by  the  South-wind, 
Waucd  onward  by  the  South-wind, 


THE  HUNTING   OF   TAU-PUK-KEEWIS.      851 

Blowing  fresh  and  strong  behind  them, 
Rose  a  sound  of  human  voices, 
Rose  a  clamor  from  beneath  them, 
From  the  lodges  of  a  village, 
From  the  people  miles  beneath  them. 

For  the  people  of  the  village 
Saw  the  Hock  of  brant  with  wonder, 
Saw  the  wings  of  Pau-Puk-Kcewig 
Flapping  far  up  in  the  ether, 
Broader  than  two  doorway  curtains. 

Pau-Puk-Keewis  heard  the  shouting, 
Knew  the  voice  of  Hiawatha, 
Knew  the  outcry  of  lagoo, 
And,  forgetful  of  the  warning, 
Drew  his  neck  in,  and  looked  downward, 
And  the  wind  that  blew  behind  him 
Caught  liis  mighty  fan  of  feathers, 
Sent  him  wheeling,  whirling  downward  I 

All  in  vain  did  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Struggle  to  regain  his  balance  ! 
Whirling  round  and  round  and  downward, 
He  beheld  in  turn  the  village 
And  in  turn  the  flock  above  him, 
Saw  the  village  coming  nearer, 
And  the  flock  receding  farther, 
Heard  the  voices  growing  louder, 
Heard  the  shouting  and  the  laughter ; 
Saw  no  more  the  flock  above  him, 
Only  saw  the  earth  beneath  him; 
Dead  out  of  the  empty  heaven, 
Dead  among  the  shouting  people, 
With  a  heavy  sound  and  sullen, 
Fell  the  brant  with  broken  pinions. 

But  his  soul,  his  ghost,  his  shadow, 
Still  survived  as  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Took  again  the  form  and  features 
Of  the  handsome  Yenadizze, 
And  again  went  rushing  onward, 
Followed  fast  by  lihwatha, 


852  THE    SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Crying:  "Not  so  wide  the  world  is, 
Not  so  long  and  rough  the  way  is, 
But  my  wrath  shall  overtake  you, 
But  my  vengeance  shall  attain  you  !  " 

And  so  near  he  came,  so  near  him, 
That  his  hand  was  stretched  to  seize  h'1 
His  right  hand  to  seize  and  hold  him, 
When  the  cunning  Pan-Pnk-Keewis 
"Whirled  and  spun  about  in  circles, 
Fanned  the  air  into  a  whirlwind, 
Danced  the  dust  and  leaves  about  him, 
And  amid  the  whirling  eddies 
Sprang  into  a  hollow  oak-tree, 
Changed  himself  into  a  serpent, 
Gliding  out  through  root  and  rubbish. 

With  his  right  hand  Hiawatha 
Smote  amain  the  hollow  oak-tree, 
Rent  it  into  shreds  and  splinters, 
Left  it  lying  there  in  fragments. 
But  in  vain  ;  for  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Once  again  in  human  figure, 
Full  in  sight  ran  on  before  him, 
Sped  away  in  gust  and  whirlwind, 
On  the  shores  of  Gitche  Gumce, 
Westward  by  the  Big-Sea- Water, 
Came  unto  the  rocky  headlands, 
To  the  Pictured  Rocks  of  sandstone, 
Looking  over  lake  and  landscape. 

And  "the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain, 
He  the  Manito  of  Mountains, 
Opened  wide  his  rocky  doorways, 
Opened  wide  his  deep  abysses, 
Giving  Pau-Puk-Keewis  shelter 
In  his  caverns  dark  and  drear}-, 
Bidding  Pau-Puk-Keewis  welcome 
To  his  gloomy  lodge  of  sandstone. 

There  without  stood  Hiawatha, 
Found  the  doorways  closed  against  him, 
With  his  mittens,  Minjekahwun, 


THE  nUNTIXG   OF   PAU-PUK-KEEWIS.      S5S 

Smote  great  caverns  in  the  sandstone, 
Cried  aloud  in  to"nes  of  thunder, 
"  Open  !  I  am  Hiawatha !  " 
But  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain 
Opened  not,  and  made  no  answer 
From  the  silent  crags  of  sandstone, 
From  the  gloomy  rock  abysses. 

Then  he  raised  his  hands  to  heaven, 
Called  imploring  on  the  tempest, 
Called  Waywassimo,  the  lightning, 
And  the  thunder,  Annemeekec ; 
And  they  came  with  night  and  darkness, 
Sweeping  down  the  Big-Sea- AV^ater 
From  the  distant  Thunder  Mountains; 
And  the  trembling  Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Heard  the  footsteps  of  the  thunder, 
Saw  the  red  eyes  of  the  lightning, 
Was  afraid,  and  crouched  and  trembled. 

Then  Waywassimo,  the  lightning, 
Smote  the  doorways  of  the  caverns, 
With  his  war-club  smote  the  doorways, 
Smote  the  jutting  crags  of  sandstone, 
And  the  thunder,  Annemeekee, 
Shouted  down  into  the  caverns, 
Saying,  "  Where  is  Pau-Puk-Keewis  1  * 
And  the  crags  fell,  and  beneath  them 
Dead  among  the  rocky  ruins 
Lay  the  cunning  Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Lav  the  handsome  Ycnadizzo, 
Slain  in  his  own  human  figure. 

Ended  were  his  wild  adventures, 
Ended  were  his  tricks  and  gambols, 
Ended  all  his  craft  and  cunning, 
Ended  all  his  mischief-making. 
All  his  gambling  and  his  dancing, 
AH  his  wooing  of  the  maidens. 

Then  the  noble  Hiawatha 
Took  his  soul,  his  ghost,  his  shadow, 
Spake  and  said  :  "  O  Pau-Puk-Keewis! 

VOL.   II.  23 


354  THE   BONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Never  more  in  human  figure 

Shall  you  search  for  new  adventures ; 

Never  more  with  jest  and  laughter 

Dance  the  dust  and  leaves  in  whirlwinds; 

But  above  there  in  the  heavens 

You  shall  soar  and  sail  in  circles ; 

I  will  change  you  to  an  caule, 

To  Kcneu,  the  great  war-ea^'lo, 

Chief  of  all  the  fowls  with  feathers, 

Chief  of  Hiawatha's  chickens." 

And  the  name  of  Pau-Puk-Kee\via 
Lingers  still  among  the  people, 
Lingers  still  among  the  singers, 
And  among  the  story-tellers  ; 
And  in  Winter,  when  the  snow-flakes 
Whirl  in  eddies  round  the  lodges, 
When  the  wind  in  gusty  tumult 
O'er  the  smoke-flue  pipes  and  whistles, 
"There,"  they  cry,  "comes  Pau-Puk-Keewi* ; 
He  is  dancing  through  the  village, 
He  is  gathering  in  his  harvest !  " 


xvin. 

THE   DEATH   OF   KWASIND. 

FAU  and  wide  among  tlie  nations 
Spread  the  name  and  fame  of  Kwasind , 
No  man  dared  to  strive  with  Kwasind, 
No  man  could  compete  with  Kwasind. 
But  the  mischievous  Puk-Wudjics, 
They  the  envious  Little  People, 
They  the  fairies  and  the  pigmies, 
Plotted  and  conspired  against  him. 

"  If  this  hateful  Kwasind,"  said  they, 
"  If  this  great,  outrageous  fellow 
Goes  on  thus  a  little  longer, 
Tearing  everything  he  touches, 
Rending  everything  to  pieces,  ^ 

Filling  all  the  world  with  wonder, 
What  becomes  of  the  Puk-Wudjies? 
Who  will  care  for  the  Puk-Wud'jies  ? 
He  will  tread  us  down  like  mushrooms, 
Drive  us  all  into  the  water, 
Give  our  bodies  to  be  eaten 
By  the  wicked  Nec-ba-naw-baigs, 
By  the  Spirits  of  the  water  ! " 

So  the  angry  Little  People 
All  conspired  against  the  Strong  Man, 
All  conspired  to  murder  Kwasind, 
Yes,  to  rid  the  world  of  Kwasind, 
The  audacious,  overbearing, 
Heartless,  haughty,  dangerous  Kwasind  ! 

Now  this  wondrous  strength  of  Kwasind 
In  his  crown  alone  was  seated ; 
In  his  crown  too  was  his  weakness  ; 
There  alone  could  he  be  wounded, 
(865) 


856  THE   SOXO   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Nowhere  else  could  weapon  pierce  him, 
Nowhere  else  could  weapon  harm  him 

Even  there  the  only  weapon 
That  could  wound  him,  that  could  slay  him, 
Was  the  seed-cone  of  the  pine-tree, 
Was  the  blue  cone  of  the  lir-trec. 
This  was  Kwasind's  fatal  secret, 
Known  to  no  man  among  mortals ; 
But  the  cunning  Little  People, 
The  Puk-AVudjics,  knew  the  secret, 
Knew  the  only  way  to  kill  him. 

So  they  gathered  cones  together, 
Gathered  seed-cones  of  the  pine-tree, 
Gathered  blue  cones  of  the  lir-trcc, 
In  the  woods  by  Tuquamenaw, 
Brought  them  to  the  river's  margin, 
Heaped  them  in  great  piles  together, 
Where  the  red  rocks  from  the  margin 
Jutting  overhang  the  river. 
There  they  lay  in  wait  for  Kwasind, 
The  malicious  Little  People. 

T  was  an  afternoon  in  Summer ; 
Very  hot  and  still  the  air  was, 
Very  smooth  the  gliding  river, 
Motionless  the  sleeping  shadows  : 
Insects  glistened  in  the  sunshine, 
Insects  skated  on  the  water, 
Filled  the  drowsy  air  with  buzzing, 
With  a  far-resounding  war-cry. 

Down  the  river  came  the  Strong  Man. 
Jc  his  birch  canoe  came  Kwasind, 
floating  slowly  down  the  current 
Of  the  sluggish  Taquamcnaw, 
Very  languid  with  the  weather, 
Very  sleepy  with  the  silence. 

From  the  overhanging  branches, 
From  the  tassels  of  the  birch-trees, 
Soft  the  Spirit  of  Sleep  descended  ; 
By  his  airy  hosts  surrounded, 


THE    DEATH   OF    KWAStSD.  857 

His  invisible  attendants, 
Came  the  Spirit  of  Sleep,  Nepahwin ; 
Like  the  burnished  Dush-kwo-ne-she, 
Like  a  dragon-fly,  he  hovered 
O'er  the  drowsy  head  of  Kwasind. 

To  his  car  there  came  a  murmur 
As  of  waves  upon  a  sea-shore, 
As  of  far-oil'  tumbling  waters, 
As  of  winds  among  the  pine-trees ; 
And  he  felt  upon  liis  forehead 
Blows  of  little  airy  war-clubs, 
Wielded  by  the  slumbrous  legions 
Of  the  Spirit  of  Sleep,  Nepahwin, 
As  of  some  one  breathing  on  him. 

At  the  first  blow  of  their  war-clubs 
Fell  a  drowsiness  on  Kwasind ; 
At  the  second  blow  they  smote  him, 
Motionless  his  paddle  rested  ; 
At  the  third,  before  his  vision 
Reeled  the  landscape  into  darkness, 
Very  sound  asleep  was  Kwasind. 

So  he  floated  down  the  river, 
Like  a  blind  man  seated  upright, 
Floated  down  the  Taquamenaw, 
Underneath  the  trembling  birch-trees, 
Underneath  the  wooded  headlands, 
Underneath  the  war  encampment 
Of  the  pigmies,  the  Puk-Wudjics. 

There  they  stood,  all  armed  and  waiting, 
Hurled  the  pine-cones  down  upon  him, 
Struck  him  on  his  brawny  shoulders, 
On  his  crown  defenceless  struck  him. 
u  Death  to  Kwasind  ! "  was  the  sudden 
War-cry  of  the  Little  People. 

And  he  sideways  swayed  and  tumbled, 
Sideways  fell  into  the  river, 
Plunged  beneath  the  sluggish  water 
Headlong,  as  an  otter  plunges ; 
And  the  birch-canoe,  abandoned, 


858  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATILA. 

Drifted  empty  down  the  river, 
Bottom  upward  swerved  and  drifted : 
Nothing  more  was  seen  of  Kwasiml. 

But  the  memory  of  the  Strong  Man 
Lingered  long  among  the  people, 
And  whenever  through  the  forest 
Raged  and  roared  the  wintry  tempest, 
And  the  branches,  tossed  and  troubled, 
Creaked  and  groaned  and  split  asunder, 
"  Kwasind ! "  cried  they  ;  "  that  H  Kwasind  I 
He  b  gathering  in  his  lire- wood  1 " 


XIX. 

THE   GHOSTS. 

NEVER  stoops  the  soaring  vulture 

On  his  quarry  in  the  desert, 

On  the  sick  or  wounded  bison, 

But  another  vulture,  watching 

From  his  high  aerial  look-out, 

Sees  the  downward  plunge,  and  follows; 

And  a  third  pursues  the  second, 

Coining  from  the  invisible  ether, 

First  a  speck,  and  then  a  vulture, 

Till  the  air  is  dark  with  pinions. 

So  disasters  come  not  singly  ; 
But  as  if  they  watched  and  waited, 
Scanning  one  another's  motions, 
When  the  first  descends,  the  others 
Follow,  follow,  gathering  flock-wise 
Round  their  victim,  sick  and  wounded, 
First  a  shadow,  then  a  sorrow, 
Till  the  air  is  dark  with  anguish. 

Now,  o'er  all  the  dreary  Northland, 
Mighty  Peboan,  the  Winter, 
Breathing  on  the  lakes  and  rivers, 
Into  stone  had  changed  their  waters, 
From  his  hair  he  shook  the  snow-flakes, 
Till  the  plains  were  strewn  with  whiteaesfe 
One  uninterrupted  level, 
As  if,  stooping,  the  Creator 
With  his  hand  had  smoothed  them  over. 

Through  the  forest,  wide  and  wailing, 
Roamed  the  hunter  on  his  snow-shoes  ; 
In  the  village  worked  the  women, 
Pounded  maize,  or  dressed  the  deer-skin  • 


860  TIfE   SOXG    OF    HIAWATHA. 

And  the  young  men  played  together 

On  the  ice  the  noisy  ball-play, 

On  the  plain  the  dance  of  snow-shoes. 

One  dark  evening,  after  sundown, 
In  her  wigwam  Laughing  Water 
Sat  with  old  Xokomis,  waiting 
For  the  stops  of  Hiawatha 
Homeward  from  the  hunt  returning. 

On  their  faces  gleamed  the  fire-light, 
Painting  them  with  streaks  of  crimson, 
In  the  eyes  of  old  Nokomia 
Glimmered  like  the  watery  moonlight, 
In  the  eyes  of  Laughing  Water 
Glistened  like  the  sun  in  water; 
And  behind  them  crouched  their  shadows 
In  the  corners  of  the  wigwam, 
And  the  smoke  in  wreaths  above  them 
Climbed  and  crowded  through  the  smoke-flu* 

Then  the  curtain  of  the  doorway 
From  without  was  slowly  lifted  ; 
Brighter  glowed  the  fire  a  moment, 
And  a  moment  swerved  the  smoke-wreath, 
As  two  women  entered  softly, 
Passed  the  doorway  uninvited, 
"Without  word  of  salutation, 
Without  sign  of  recognition, 
Sat  down  in  the  farthest  corner, 
Crouching  low  among  the  shadows. 

From  their  aspect  and  their  garments, 
Strangers  seemed  they  in  the  village ; 
Very  pale  and  haggard  were  they, 
As  they  sat  there  sad  and  silent, 
Trembling,  cowering  with  the  shadows. 

Was  it  the  wind  above  the  smoke-flue, 
Muttering  down  into  the  wigwam? 
Was  it  the  owl,  the  Koko-koho, 
Hooting  from  the  dismal  forest  ? 
Sure  a  voice  said  in  the  silence: 
*»  These  are  corpses  clad  in  garments, 


THE  GHOSTS.  861 

These  are  "hosts  that  come  to  haunt  you, 
From  the  kingdom  of  Ponemah, 
From  the  land  of  the  Hereafter!" 

Homeward  now  came  Hiawatha 
From  his  hunting  in  the  forest, 
"With  the  snow  upon  his  tresses, 
And  the  red  deer  on  his  shoulders. 
At  the  feet  of  Laughing  AVatcr 
Down  he  threw  his  lifeless  burden ; 
Nobler,  handsomer  she  thought  him, 
Than  when  first  he  came  to  woo  "her, 
First  threw  down  the  deer  before  her, 
As  a  token  of  his  wishes, 
As  a  promise  of  the  future. 

Then  he  turned  and  saw  the  strangers, 
Cowering,  crouching  with  the  shadows  ; 
Said  within  himselfj  "  Who  are  they  ? 
What  strange  guests  has  Minnehaha?" 
But  he  questioned  not  the  strangers, 
Only  spake  to  bid  them  welcome 
To  his  lodge,  his  food,  his  fireside. 

When  the  evening  meal  was  ready, 
And  the  deer  had  been  divided, 
Both  the  pallid  guests,  the  strangers, 
Springing  from  among  the  shadows, 
Seized  upon  the  choicest  portions, 
Seized  the  white  fat  of  the  roebuck, 
Set  apart  for  Laughing  Water, 
For  the  wife  of  Hiawatha ; 
Without  asking,  without  thanking, 
Eagerly  devoured  the  morsels, 
Flitted  back  among  the  shadows 
In  the  corner  of  the  wigwam. 

Not  a  word  spake  Hiawatha, 
Not  a  motion  made  Nokomis, 
Not  a  gesture  Laughing  Water; 
Not  a  change  came  o'er  their  features  ; 
Only  Minnehaha  softly 
Whispered,  saying,  "  They  are  famished 


3G3  THE   SOXG   OF   I1IAWATUA 

Let  them  do  what  best  delights  them ; 
Let  them  cat,  for  they  are  1'amishcd." 

Many  a  daylight  dawned  and  darkened* 
Many  a  night  shook  oil'  the  daylight 
As  the  pine  shakes  oil'  the  suow-llakes 
From  the  midnight  of  its  branches; 
Day  by' day  the  guests  unmoving 
Sat  there  silent  in  the  wigwam ; 
But  by  night,  in  storm  or  starlight, 
Forth  they  went  into  the  forest, 
Bringing  fire-wood  to  the  wigwam, 
Bringing  pine-cones  for  the  burning, 
Always  sad  and  always  silent. 

And  whenever  Hiawatha 
Came  from  fishing  or  from  hunting, 
When  the  evening  meal  was  ready, 
And  the  food  had  been  divided, 
Gliding  from  their  darksome,  corner, 
Came  the  pallid  guosts,  tin'  Grangers, 
Seized  upon  the  choicest  portions 
Set  aside  for  Laughing  Water, 
And  without  rebuke  or  question 
Flitted  back  among  the  shadows. 

Never  once  luuTlliawatha 
By  a  word  or  look  reproved  them ; 
Never  once  had  old  Xokomis 
Made  a  gesture  of  impatience  ; 
Never  once  had  Laughing  Water 
Shown  resentment  at  the  outrage. 
All  had  they  endured  in  silence, 
That  the  rights  of  guest  and  stranger, 
That  the  virtue  of  free-giving, 
By  a  look  might  not  be  lessened, 
By  a  word  might  not  be  broken. 

Once  at  midnight  Hiawatha, 
Ever  wakeful,  ever  watchful, 
In  the  wigwam,  dimly  lighted 
By  the  brands  that  still  were  burning, 
By  the  glimmering,  flickering  fire-light, 


THE    GHOSTS.  861 

Heard  a  sighing,  oft  repeated, 
Hoard  a  sobbing,  as  of  sorrow. 

From  his  couch  rose  Hiawatha, 
From  his  shaggy  hides  of  bison, 
Pushed  aside'thc  deer-skin  curtain, 
Saw  the  pallid  guests,  the  shadows, 
kitting  upright  on  their  couches, 
Weeping  in  the  silent  midnight. 

And  he  said  :  "  O  guests  !  why  Is  it 
That  your  hearts  are  so  afflicted, 
That  you  sob  so  in  the  midnight? 
Has  perchance  the  old  Nokomis, 
Has  my  wife,  my  Minnehaha, 
Wronged  or  grieved  you  by  unkiudness, 
Failed  in  hospitable  duties  ?  " 

Then  the  shadows  ceased  from  weeping, 
Ceased  from  sobbing  and  lamenting, 
And  they  said,  with  gentle  voices : 
"  AVe  are  ghosts  of  the  departed, 
Souls  of  those  who  once  were  with  you. 
From  the  realms  of  Chibiabos 
Hither  have  we  come  to  try  you, 
Hither  have  we  come  to  warn  you. 

"  Cries  of  grief  and  lamentation 
Reach  us  in  the  Blessed  Islands ; 
Cries  of  anguish  from  the  living, 
Calling  back  their  friends  departed, 
cJadden  us  with  useless  sorrow. 
Therefore  have  we  come  to  try  you  ; 
Ho  one  knows  us,  no  one  heeds  us. 
We  are  but  a  burden  to  you, 
And  we  see  that  the  departed 
Have  no  place  among  the  living. 

*•  Think  of  this,  O  Hiawatha ! 
Speak  of  it  to  all  the  people, 
That  henceforward  and  forever 
They  no  more  with  lamentations 
oadden  the  souls  of  the  departed 
In  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed. 


864  THE   SON'G    OF    HIAWATHA. 

"  Do  not  Jay  such  heavy  burdens 
In  the  graves  of  those  you  bury, 
Not  such  weight  of  furs  and  wampum, 
Not  such  weight  of  pots  and  kettles, 
For  the  spirits  faint  beneath  them. 
Only  give  them  food  to  carry, 
Only  give  them  fire  to  light  them. 

"  Four  days  is  the  spirit's  journey 
To  the  land  of  ghosts  and  shadows, 
Four  its  lonely  night  encampments; 
Four  times  must  their  fires  be  lighted 
Therefore,  when  the  dead  arc  buried, 
Let  a  fire,  as  night  approaches, 
Four  times  on  the  grave  be  kindled, 
That  the  soul  upon  its  journey 
May  not  lack  the  cheerful  fire-light, 
May  not  grope  about  in  darkness, 

"  Farewell,  noble  Hiawatha  ! 
We  have  put  you  to  the  trial, 
To  the  proof  have  put  your  patience, 
By  the  insult  of  our  presence, 
By  the  outrage  of  our  actions. 
We  have  found  you  great  and  noble. 
Fail  not  in  the  greater  trial, 
Faint  not  in  the  harder  struggle." 

When  they  ceased,  a  sudden  darknev 
Fell  and  filled  the  silent  wigwam. 
Hiawatha  heard  a  rustle 
As  of  garments  trailing  by  him, 
Heard  the  curtain  of  the  doorway 
Lifted  by  a  hand  he  saw  not, 
Felt  the  cold  breath  of  the  night  air, 
For  a  moment  saw  the  starlight ; 
But  he  saw  the  ghosts  no  longer, 
Saw  no  more  the  wandering  spirits 
From  the  kingdom  of  1'oiK-inali, 
From  the  land  of  the  Hereafter. 


XX. 

THE    FAMINE. 

O  THE  long  and  dreary  Winter! 
O  the  cold  and  cruel  Winter! 
Ever  thicker,  thicker,  thicker 
Froze  the  ice  on  lake  and  river, 
Ever  deeper,  deeper,  deeper 
Fell  the  snow  o'er  all  the  landscape, 
Fell  the  covering  snow,  and  drifted 
Through  the  ibivst,  round  the  village. 

Hardly  from  his  buried  wigwam 
Could  the  hunter  force  a  passage; 
With  his  mittens  and  his  snow-shoes 
Vainly  walked  he  through  the  forest, 
Sought  for  bird  or  beast  and  found  none, 
Saw  no  track  of  deer  or  rabbit, 
In  the  snow  beheld  no  footprints, 
In  the  ghastly,  gleaming  forest 
Fell,  and  could  not  rise  from  weakness, 
Perished  there  from  cold  and  hunger. 

O  the  famine  and  the  fever  1 
O  the  wasting  of  the  famine  1 
O  the  blasting  of  the  fever  I 
O  the  wailing  of  the  children  ! 
O  the  anguish  of  the  women ! 

All  the  earth  was  sick  and  famished; 
Hungry  was  the  air  around  them, 
Hungry  was  the  sky  above  them, 
And  the  hungry  stars  in  heaven 
Like  the  eyes  of  wolves  glared  at  them  I 

Into  Hiawatha's  wigwam 
Came  two  other  guests,  as  silent 
As  the  ghosts  were,  and  as  gloomy, 
Waited  not  to  be  invited, 


866  THE   SOXG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Did  not  parley  at  the  doorway, 
Sat  there  without  word  of  welcome 
In  the  seat  of  Laughing  Water  ; 
Looked  with  haggard  eyes  and  hollow 
At  the  face  of  Laughing  Water. 

And  the  foremost  said  :  "  Behold  me ! 
I  am  Famine,  llukadawin  !  " 
And  the  other  said  :  "  Ik-hold  me  I 
I  am  Fever,  Ahkosewin  !  " 

And  the  lovely  Minnohaha 
Shuddered  as  they  looked  upon  her, 
Shuddered  at  the  word*  they  uttered, 
Lay  down  on  her  bed  in  silence, 
Hid  her  face,  but  made  no  answer ; 
Lay  there  trembling,  free/in",  burning 
At  the  looks  they  cast  upon  her, 
At  the  fearful  words  they  uttered. 

Forth  into  the  empty  forest 
Rushed  the  maddened  Hiawatha; 
In  his  heart  was  deadly  sorrow, 
In  his  lace  a  stony  firmness; 
On  his  brow  the  sweat  of  anguish 
Started,  but  it  froze  and  fell  not. 

Wrapped  in  furs  and  armed  for  hunting, 
With  his  mighty  bow  of  ash-tree, 
With  his  quiver  full  of  arrows, 
With  his  mittens,  Minjekalnvun, 
Into  the  vast  and  vacant  forest 
On  his  snow-shoes  strode  he  forward. 

"  Gitchc  Manito,  the  Mighty  !" 
Cried  he  with  his  lace  optima 
In  that  bitter  hour  of  anguish, 
"  Give  your  children  food,  O  father ! 
Give  us  food,  or  we  must  perish  1 
Give  me  food  for  Minnehalia, 
For  my  dying  Minnehaha  !  " 

Through  the  lar-rcsounding  forest, 
Through  the  forest  vast  and  vacant 
Rang  that  cry  of  desolation. 


THE   FAMINE  367 

But  there  came  no  other  answer 
Than  the  echo  of  his  crying, 
Than  the  echo  of  the  woodlands, 
"  Minnehaka  !  Minncliaha  ! " 

All  day  long  roved  Hiawatha 
In  that  melancholy  forest, 
Through  the  shadow  of  whose  thickets, 
Jn  the  pleasant  days  of  Summer, 
Of  that  ne'er  forgotten  Summer, 
Ho  had  brought  his  young  wife  homeward 
From  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs  ; 
When  the  birds  sang  in  the  thickets, 
And  the  streamlets  laughed  and  glistened, 
And  the  air  was  full  of  fragrance, 
And  the  lovely  Laughing  \Vater 
Said  with  voice  that  did  not  tremble, 
"  I  will  follow  you,  my  husband  !  " 

In  the  wigwam  with  Nokomis, 
With  those  gloomy  guests,  that  watched  her, 
With  the  Famine  and  the  Fever, 
She  was  lying,  the  Beloved, 
She  the  dying  Minnehaha. 

"  Hark  1 "  she  said  ;  "  I  hear  a  rushing, 
Hear  a  roaring  and  a  rushing, 
Hear  the  Falls  of  Mimiehaha 
Calling  to  me  from  a  distance  ! " 
"  No,  my  child  !  "  said  old  Nokomis, 
W'T  is  the  night-wind  in  the  pine-trees  I" 

"  Look ! "  she  said  ;  "  I  sec  my  father 
Standing  lonely  at  his  doorway, 
Beckoning  to  me  from  his  wigwam 
In  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs ! " 
"  No,  my  child  ! "  said  old  Nokomis, 
u  'T  is  the  smoke,  that  waves  and  beckons !  * 

"  Ah  ! "  she  said,  u  the  eyes  of  Pauguk 
Glare  upon  me  in  the  darkness, 
I  can  feel  his  icy  fingers 
Clasping  mine  amid  the  darkness ' 
Hiawatha !  Hiawatha !" 


868  THE   SOXO   OF    HIAWATHA. 

And  the  desolate  Hiawatha, 
Far  away  amid  the  forest, 
Miles  Jiwav  among  the  mountains, 
Heard  tliat  sudden  cry  of  anguish, 
Heard  the  voice  of  Minnchaha 
Calling  to  him  in  the  darkucss, 
"Hiawatha!  Hiawatha!" 

Over  snow-fields  waste  and  pathless, 
Under  snow-encumbered  branches, 
Homeward  hu/ried  Hiawatha, 
Empty-handed,  heavy-hearted, 
Heard  Nokomis  moaning,  wailing: 
"  Wahonowin  !  Wahonowin  ! 
"Would  that  I  had  perished  lor  you, 
Would  that  I  were  dead  as  you  arc  ! 
Wahonowin  !  Wahonowin  ! " 

And  he  rushed  into  the  wigwam, 
Saw  the  old  Xokomis  slowly 
Hocking  to  and  fro  and  moaning, 
Saw  his  lovely  Minnekaha 
Lying  dead  and  cold  before  him, 
And  his  bursting  heart  within  him 
Uttered  such  a  crv  of  anguish, 
'Vhat  the  forest  moaned  and  shuddered, 
That  the  very  stirs  in  heaven 
Bhook  and  trembled  with  his  anguish. 

Then  lie  sat  down,  still  and  speechless, 
On  the  bed  of  Minnehaha, 
At  the  feet  of  Laughing  Water, 
At  those  willing  feet,  that  never 
More  would  lightly  run  to  meet  him, 
Never  more  would  lightly  follow 

With  both  hands  his  face  he  covered, 
Seven  long  days  and  nights  he  sat  there, 
As  if  in  a  swoon  he  suit  there 
Speechless,  motionless,  un< -onscious 
Of  the  daylight  or  the  darkness. 

Then  they  buried  Minnchaha  ; 
la  the  suow  a  grave  they  made  her, 


THE   FAMINE.  369 


In  the  forest  deep  and  darksome, 
Underneath  the  moaning  hemlocks; 
Clothed  her  in  her  richest  garments, 
Wrapped  her  in  her  rolws  of  ermine, 
Covered  her  with  snow,  like  ermine  ; 
Thus  they  buried  Minnchaha. 

And  at  night  a  fire  was  lighted, 
On  her  grave  four  times  was  kindled, 
For  her  soul  upon  its  journey 
To  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed. 
From  his  doorway  Hiawatha 
Saw  it  burning  in  the  forest, 
Lighting  up  the  gloomy  hemlocks; 
From  his  sleepless  bed  uprising, 
From  the  bed  of  Minnehaha, 
Stood  and  watched  it  at  the  doorway, 
That  it  might  not  be  extinguished, 
Might  not  leave  her  in  the  darkness. 

"Farewell!"  said  he,  "Minnehaha! 
Farewell,  O  my  Laughing  Water  1 
All  my  heart  is  buried  with  you, 
All  my  thoughts  go  onward  with  you ! 
Come  not  back  again  to  labor, 
Come  not  back  again  to  suffer, 
Where  the  Famine  and  the  Fever 
Wear  the  heart  and  waste  the  body. 
Soon  my  task  will  be  completed, 
Soon  your  footsteps  I  shall  follow 
To  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed, 
To  the  Kingdom  of  Ponemah, 
I' 3  the  Land  of  the  Hereafter  1 " 


THE   WHITE   MAN'S   FOOT. 

IN  his  lodge  beside  a  river, 
Close  beside  a  frozen  river, 
Sat  an  old  man,  sad  and  lonely. 
White  his  hair  was  as  a  snow-drift  ; 
Dull  and  low  his  fire  was  burning, 
And  the  old  man  shook  and  trembled, 
Folded  in  his  Waubcwyon, 
In  his  tattered  white-skin-wrapper, 
Hearing  nothing  but  the  tempest 
As  it  roared  along  the  forest, 
Seeing  nothing  but  the  snow-storm, 
As  it  whirled  and  hissed  and  drifted. 

All  the  coals  were  white  with  ashes, 
And  the  fire  was  slowly  dying, 
As  a  young  man,  walking  lightly, 
At  the  open  doorway  entered. 
Red  with  blood  of  youth  his  cheeks  were, 
Soft  his  eyes,  as  stars  in  Spring-time, 
Bound  his  forehead  was  with  grasses ; 
Bound  and  plumed  with  scented  grasses, 
On  his  lips  a  smile  of  beauty, 
Filling  all  the  lodge  with  sunshine, 
In  his  hand  a  bunch  of  blossoms 
Filling  all  the  lodge  with  sweetness. 

"  Ah,  my  son  !  '7  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
M  Happy  are  my  eyes  to  see  you. 
Sit  here  on  the  mat  beside  me, 
Sit  here  by  the  dying  embers, 
Let  us  pass  the  night  together. 
Tell  me  of  your  strange  adventures, 
Of  the  lands  where  you  have  travelled ; 


THE   WHITE   MAN'S   FOOT.  871 

\  will  tell  you  of  my  prowess, 
Of  my  many  deeds  of  wonder." 

From  his  pouch  he  drew  his  peace-pipe, 
Very  old  and  strangely  fashioned ; 
Made  of  red  stone  was  the  pipe-head, 
And  the  stem  a  reed  with  feathers ; 
Filled  the  pipe  with  bark  of  willow, 
Placed  a  burning  coal  upon  it, 
Gave  it  to  his  guest,  the  stranger, 
And  began  to  speak  in  this  wise  : 

"  When  I  blow  my  breath  about  me, 
When  I  breathe  upon  the  landscape, 
Motionless  are  all  the  rivers, 
Hard  as  stone  becomes  the  water !  " 

And  the  young  man  answered,  smiling: 
"  When  I  blow  my  breath  about  me, 
When  I  breathe  upon  the  landscape, 
Flowers  spring  up  o'er  all  the  meadows, 
Singing,  onward  rush  the  rivers !  " 

"  When  I  shake  my  hoary  tresses," 
Said  the  old  man  darkly  frowning, 
"  All  the  land  with  snow  is  covered ; 
All  the  leaves  from  all  the  branches 
Fall  and  fade  and  die  and  wither, 
For  I  breathe,  and  lo  !  they  are  not. 
From  the  waters  and  the  marshes 
Rise  the  wild  goose  and  the  heron, 
Fly  away  to  distant  regions, 
For  I  speak,  and  lo !  they  are  not. 
And  whore'er  my  footsteps  wander, 
All  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest 
Hide  themselves  in  holes  and  caverns, 
And  the  earth  becomes  as  flintstone ! " 

"  When  I  shake  my  flowing  ringlets," 
Said  the  young  man,  softly  laughing, 
"  Showers  of  rain  fall  warm  and  welcome, 
Plants  lift  up  their  heads  rejoicing, 
Back  unto  their  lakes  and  marshes 

ome  the  wild  goose  and  the  heron, 


372  THE   SOKQ   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Home  ward  shoots  the  arrowy  swallow, 
Sing  the  blue-bird  and  the  robin, 
And  where'er  my  footsteps  wander, 
All  the  meadows  wave  with  blossoms, 
All  the  woodlands  ring  with  music,    • 
All  the  trees  are  dark  with  foliage  1" 

While  they  spake,  the  night  departed ; 
From  the  distant  realms  of  Wabun, 
From  his  shining  lodge  of  silver, 
Like  a  warrior  robed  and  painted, 
Came  the  sun,  and  said,  "  Behold  me ! 
Gheezis,  the  great  sun,  behold  me  !" 

Then  the  old  man's  tongue  was  speechless, 
And  the  air  grew  warm  and  pleasant, 
And  upon  the  wigwam  sweetly 
Sang  the  blue-bird  and  the  robin, 
And  the  stream  began  to  murmur, 
And  a  scent  of  growing  grasses 
Through  the  lodge  was  gently  wafted. 

And  Segwun,  the  youthful  stranger, 
More  distinctly  in  the  daylight 
Saw  the  icy  face  before  him  ; 
It  was  Peboan,  the  Winter! 

From  his  eyes  the  tears  were  flowing, 
As  from  melting  lakes  the  streamlets, 
And  his  body  shrunk  and  dwindled 
As  the  shouting  sun  ascended, 
Till  into  the  air  it  faded, 
Till  into  the  ground  it  vanished, 
And  the  young  man  saw  before  him., 
On  the  hearth-stone  of  the  wigwam, 
Where  the  fire  had  smoked  and  smouldered, 
Saw  the  earliest  flower  of  Spring-time, 
Saw  the  Beauty  of  the  Spring-time, 
Saw  the  Miskodccd  in  blossom. 

Thus  it  was  that  in  the  Northland 
After  that  unheard-of  coldness, 
That  intolerable  Winter, 
Came  the  Spring  with  all  its  splendor, 


THE   -WHITE   MAX'S   FOOT.  878 

All  its  birds  and  all  its  blossoms, 

All  its  (lowers  and  leaves  and  grasses. 

Sailing  on  the  wind  to  northward, 
Flying  in  great  flocks,  like  arrows, 
Like  huge  arrows  shot  through  heaven, 
Passed  tne  swan,  the  Mahnahbczee, 
Speaking  almost  &s  a  man  speaks ; 
And  in  long  lines  waving,  bending 
Like  a  bow-string  snapped  asunder, 
Came  the  white  goose,  Waw-bc-wawa ; 
And  in  pairs,  or  singly  flying, 
dialing  the  loon,  with  clangorous  pinions, 
The  blue  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah, 
And  the  grouse,  the  Mushkodasa. 

In  the  thickets  and  the  meadows 
Piped  the  blue-bird,  the  Owaissa, 
On  the  summit  of  the  lodges 
Sang  the  robin,  the  Opeehcc, 
In  the  covert  of  the  pine-trees 
Cooed  the  pigeon,  the  Omemc, 
And  the  sorrowing  Hiawatha, 
Speechless  in  his  infinite  sorrow, 
Heard  their  voices  calling  to  him, 
Went  forth  from  his  gloomy  doorway, 
Stood  and  gazed  into  the  heaven, 
Gazed  upon  the  earth  and  waters. 

From  his  wanderings  far  to  eastward, 
From  the  regions  of  the,  morning, 
From  the  shining  land  of  Wabun, 
Homeward  now  returned  lagoo, 
The  great  traveller,  the  great  boaster, 
Full  of  new  and  strange  adventures, 
Marvels  many  and  many  wonders. 

And  the  people  of  the  village 
Listened  to  him  as  he  told  them 
Of  his  marvellous  adventures, 
Laughing  answered  him  in  this  wise : 
u  Ugh  !  it  is  indeed  lagoo ! 
No  one  else  beholds  such  wonders  1 " 


374  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

He  had  seen,  he  said,  a  water 
Bigger  than  the  Big-Sea- Water, 
Broader  than  the  Gitche  Gumee, 
Bitter  so  that  none  could  drink  it ! 
At  each  other  looked  the  warriors, 
Looked  the  women  at  each  other, 
Smiled,  and  said,  "  It  cannot  be  so ! 
Kaw !  "  they  said,  "  it  cannot  be  so  1 " 

O'er  it,  said  he,  o'er  this  water 
Came  a  great  canoe  with  pinions, 
A  canoe  with  wings  came  flying, 
Bigger  than  a  grove  of  pine-trees, 
Taller  than  the  tallest  tree-tops  I 
And  the  old  men  and  the  women 
Looked  and  tittered  at  each  other ; 
M  Kaw  1 "  they  said,  "  we  don't  believe  it  I " 

From  its  mouth,  he  said,  to  greet  him, 
Came  Waywassimo,  the  lightning, 
Came  the  thunder,  Annemeekee  1 
And  the  warriors  and  the  women 
Laughed  aloud  at  poor  lagoo ; 
"  Kaw ! "  they  said,  "  what  tales  you  tell  r»  1  * 

In  it,  said  he,  came  a  people, 
In  the  great  canoe  with  pinions 
Came,  ue  said,  a  hundred  warriors ; 
Painted  white  were  all  their  faces, 
And  with  hair  their  chins  were  covered  ! 
And  the  warriors  and  the  women 
Laughed  and  shouted  in  derision, 
Like  the  ravens  on  the  tree-tops, 
Like  the  crows  upon  the  hemlocks. 
M  Kaw ! ''  they  said,  "  what  lies  you  tell  u». 
Do  not  think  that  we  believe  them  !* 

Only  Hiawatha  laughed  not, 
But  he  gravely  spake  and  answered 
To  their  jeering  and  their  jesting  : 
«•  True  is  all  Jagoo  tells  us ; 
I  have  seen  it  in  a  vision, 
Seen  the  great  canoe  with  pinions, 


THE   WHITE   MAJS'S   FOOT.  874 

8e«n  the  people  with  white  faces, 
Seen  the  coming  of  this  bearded 
People  of  the  wooden  vessel 
From  the  regions  of  the  morning, 
From  the  shining  land  of  Wabun. 

"  Gitche  Manito,  the  Mighty, 
The  Great  Spirit,  the  Creator, 
Sends  them  hither  on  his  errand, 
Sends  them  to  us  with  his  message. 
Wheresoe'er  they  move,  before  them 
Swarms  the  stinging  fly,  the  Ahmo, 
Swarms  the  bee,  the  honey-maker ; 
Wheresoe'er  they  tread,  beneath  them 
Springs  a  flower  unknown  among  us, 
Springs  the  White-man's  Foot  in  blossom. 

"  Let  us  welcome,  then,  the  strangers, 
Hail  them  as  our  friends  and  brothers, 
And  the  heart's  right  hand  of  friendship 
Give  them  when  they  come  to  see  us. 
Gitche  Manito,  the  Mighty, 
Said  this  to  me  in  my  vision. 

"  I  beheld,  too,  in  that  vision, 
A!!  the  secrets  of  the  future, 
Of  the  distant  days  that  shall  be. 
I  beheld  the  westward  marches 
Of  the  unknown,  crowded  nations. 
All  the  land  was  full  of  people, 
Restless,  struggling,  toiling,  striving, 
Speaking  many  tongues,  yet  feeling 
But  one  heart-beat  in  their  bosoms. 
In  the  woodlands  rang  their  axes, 
Smoked  their  towns  in  all  the  valleys, 
Over  all  the  lakes  and  rivers 
Rushed  their  great  canoes  of  thunder. 

"Then  a  darker,  drearier  vision, 
Passed  before  me,  vague  and  cloud-like, 
I  beheld  our  nations  scattered, 
All  forgetful  of  my  counsels, 
Weakened,  warring  with  each  other ; 


876  THE   SONG   OF    IIIATVATHA. 

Saw  the  remnants  of  otir  people 
Sweeping  westward,  wild  and  woful, 
Like  the  cloud-rack  of  a  tempest, 
Like  the  withered  leaves  of  au^vanl* 


xxn. 

HIAWATHA'S  DEPARTURE. 

BY  the  shore  of  Gitche  Gnmee, 
By  the  sinning  Big-Sea- AVater, 
At  tlie  doorway  of  his  wigwam, 
In  (he  pleasant  Summer  morning, 
Hiawatha  stood  and  waited. 

All  the  air  was  full  of  freshness, 
All  the  earth  was  bright  and  joyous, 
And  before  him,  through  the  sunshine, 
Westward  toward  the  neighboring  forest 
Passed  in  golden  swarms  the  Ahuio, 
"Passed  the  bees,  the  honey-makers, 
Burning,  singing  in  the  sunshine. 

Bright  above  him  shone  the  heavens, 
Level  spread  the  lake  before  him ; 
From  its  bosom  leaped  the  sturgeon, 
Sparkling,  flashing  in  the  sunshine ; 
On  its  margin  the  great  forest 
Stood  reflected  in  the  water, 
Every  tree-top  had  its  shadow, 
Motionless  beneath  the  water. 

From  the  brow  of  Hiawatha 
Gone  was  every  trace  of  sorrow, 
As  the  fog  from  oif  the  water, 
As  the  mist  from  off  the  meadow. 
With  a  smile  of  joy  and  triumph, 
With  a  look  of  exultation, 
As  of  one  who  in  a  vision 
Sees  what  is  to  be,  but  is  not, 
Stood  and  waited  Hkwatha. 


378  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

Toward  the  sun  his  hands  were  lifted, 
Both  the  palms  spread  out  against  it, 
And  between  the  parted  finders 
Fell  the  sunshine  on  his  features, 
Flecked  with  light  his  naked  shoulders, 
As  it  falls  and  flecks  an  oak-tree 
Through  the  rifled  leaves  and  branches. 

O'er  the  water  floating,  flying, 
Something  in  the  hazy  distance, 
Something  in  the  mists  of  morning, 
Loomed  and  lifted  from  the  water, 
Now  seemed  floating,  now  seemed  flying, 
Coming  nearer,  nearer,  nearer. 

Was  it  Shingebis  the  diver  ? 
Was  it  the  pelican,  the  Shada? 
Or  the  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah  ? 
Or  the  white  goose,  Waw-be-wawa, 
With  the  water  dripping,  flashing 
From  its  glossy  neck  and  feathers  ? 

It  was  neither  goose  nor  diver, 
Neither  pelican  nor  heron, 
O'er  the  water  floating,  flying, 
Through  the  shining  mist  of  morning, 
But  a  birch  canoe  with  paddles, 
Rising,  sinking  on  the  water, 

nping,  flashing  in  the  sunshine, 
within  it  came  a  people 
From  the  distant  land  of  Wabun, 
From  the  farthest  realms  of  morning 
Came  the  Black- Robe  chief,  the  Prophet, 
He  the  Priest  of  Prayer,  the  Pale-face, 
With  his  guides  and  his  companions. 

And  the  noble  Hiawatha, 
With  his  hands  aloft  extended, 
Held  aloft  in  sign  of  welcome, 
Waited,  full  of  exultation, 
Till  the  birch  canoe  with  paddles 
Grated  on  the  shining  pebbles, 
Stranded  on  the  sandy  margin, 


HIAWATHA'S  DEPARTURE.  371 

lill  the  Black-Robe  chief,  the  Pale-face, 
With  the  cross  upon  his  bosom, 
Landed  on  the  sandy  margin. 

Then  the  joyous  Hiawatha 
Cried  aloud  and  spake  in  this  wise : 
"  Beautiful  is  the  sun,  O  strangers, 
When  you  come  so  far  to  see  us  I 
All  our  town  in  peace  awaits  you, 
All  our  doors  stand  open  for  you ; 
You  shall  enter  all  our  wigwams, 
For  the  heart's  right  hand  we  give  you. 

"  Never  bloomed  the  earth  so  gayly, 
Never  shone  the  sun  so  brightly, 
As  to-day  they  shine  and  blossom 
When  you  come  so  far  to  see  us ! 
Never  was  our  lake  so  tranquil, 
Nor  so  free  from  rocks  and  sand-bars ; 
For  your  birch  canoe  in  passing 
Has  removed  both  rock  and  sand-bar ! 

"  Never  before  had  our  tobacco 
Such  a  sweet  and  pleasant  flavor, 
Never  the  broad  leaves  of  our  corn-fielda 
Were  so  beautiful  to  look  on, 
As  they  seem  to  us  this  morning, 
When  you  come  so  far  to  see  us  1 " 

And  the  Black-Robe  chief  made  answer, 
Stammered  in  his  speech  a  little, 
Speaking  words  yet  unfamiliar  : 
"  Peace  be  with  you,  Hiawatha, 
Peace  be  with  you  and  your  people, 
Peace  of  prayer,  and  peace  of  pardon, 
Peace  of  Christ,  and  joy  of  Mary  ! " 

Then  the  generous  Hiawatha 
Led  the  strangers  to  his  wigwam, 
Seated  them  on  skins  of  bison, 
Seated  them  on  skins  of  ermine, 
And  the  careful,  old  Nokomis 
Brought  them  food  in  bowls  of  bass-wood, 
Water  brought  in  birchen  dippers, 


880  THE   SONG   OF   HIAWATHA. 

And  the  calumet,  the  poace-pipe. 
Filled  and  lighted  for  their  smoking. 

All  the  old  men  of  the  village, 
All  the  warriors  of  the  nation, 
All  the  Jossakccds,  the  prophets, 
.  The  magicians,  the  Wabenos, 
And  lluT medicine-men,  the  Mcdaa, 
Came  to  bid  the  strangers  welcome ; 
"  It  is  well,"  they  said,  "  O  brothers, 
That  you  come  so  far  to  see  us  1 " 

In  a  circle  round  the  doorway, 
With  their  pipes  they  sat  in  silence, 
Waiting  to  behold  the  strangers, 
Waiting  to  receive  their  message  ; 
Till  the  Black-Robe  chief,  the  Pale-face, 
From  the  wigwam  came  to  greet  them, 
Stammering  in  his  speech  a  little, 
Speaking  words  yet  unfamiliar  ; 
"  It  is  well,"  they  said,  "  O  brother, 
That  you  come  so  far  to  sec  us  ! " 

Then  the  Black-Robe  chief,  the  prophet, 
Told  his  message  to  the  people, 
Told  the  purport  of  his  mission, 
Told  them  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
And  her  blessed  Son,  the  Saviour, 
How  in  distant  lands  and  ages 
He  had  lived  on  earth  as  we  do ; 
How  he  fasted,  prayed,  and  labored  ; 
How  the  Jews,  the  tribe  accursed, 
Mocked  him,  scourged  him,  crucified  him; 
How  he  rose  from  where  they  laid  him, 
Walked  again  with  his  disciples, 
And  ascended  into  heaven. 

And  the  chiefs  made  answer,  saying  : 
"  We  have  listened  to  your  message, 
We  have  heard  your  words  of  wisdom, 
We  will  think  on  what  you  tell  us. 
It  is  well  for  us,  O  brothers, 
That  you  come  so  far  to  see  us  1 " 


HIAWATHA'S  DEPARTURE.  381 

Then  they  rose  up  and  departed 
Kach  one  homeward  to  his  wigwam, 
To  the  young  men  and  the  women 
Told  the  story  of  the  strangers 
Whom  the  Master  of  Life  had  sent  them 
From  the  shining  land  of  Wabun. 

Heavy  with  the  heat  and  silence 
Grew  the  afternoon  of  Summer  ; 
With  a  drowsy  sound  the  forest 
Whispered  round  the  sultry  wigwam, 
With  a  sound  of  sleep  the  water 
Rippled  on  the  beach  below  it ; 
From  the  corn-fields  shrill  and  ceaseless 
Sang  the  grasshopper,  Pah-Puk-keena ; 
And  the  guests  of  Hiawatha, 
Weary  with  the  heat  of  Summer, 
Slumbered  in  the  sultry  wigwam. 

Slowly  o'er  the  simmering  landscape 
Fell  the  evening's  dusk  and  coolness, 
And  the  long  and  level  sunbeams 
Shot  their  spears  into  the  forest, 
Breaking  through  its  shields  of  shadow, 
Rushed  into  each  secret  ambush, 
Searched  each  thicket,  dingle,  hollow; 
Still  the  guests  of  Hiawatha 
Slumbered  in  the  silent  wigwam. 

From  his  place  rose  Hiawatha, 
Bade  farewell  to  old  Nokomis, 
Spake  in  whispers,  spake  in  this  wise, 
Did  not  wake  the  guests,  that  slumbered : 

"  I  am  going,  O  Nokomis, 
On  a  long  and  distant  journey, 
To  the  portals  of  the  Sunset, 
To  the  regions  of  the  home-wind, 
Of  the  Northwest  wind,  Kccwaydin. 
But  these  guests  I  leave  behind  me, 
In  your  watch  and  ward  I  leave  them ; 
See  that  never  harm  comes  near  them, 
See  that  never  fear  molests  them, 


382  THE   SONG   OF    HIAWATHA. 

Never  danger  nor  suspicion, 
Never  want  of  food  or  shelter, 
In  the  lodge  of  Hiawatha !  " 

Forth  into  the  village  went  he, 
Bade  farewell  to  all  the  warriors, 
Bade  farewell  to  all  the  young  men, 
Spake  persuading,  spake  in  this  wise : 

"  I  ain  going,  O  my  people, 
On  a  long  and  distant  journey ; 
Many  moons  and  many  winters 
Will  have  come,  and  will  have  vanished, 
Ere  I  come  again  to  see  you. 
But  my  guests  I  leave  behind  me; 
Listen  to  their  words  of  wisdom, 
Listen  to  the  truth  they  tell  you, 
For  the  Master  of  Life  has  sent  them 
From  the  land  of  light  and  morning ! " 

On  the  shore  stood  Hiawatha, 
Turned  and  waved  his  hand  at  parting; 
On  the  clear  and  luminous  water 
Launched  his  birch  canoe  for  sailing, 
From  the  pebbles  of  the  margin 
Shoved  it  forth  into  the  water ; 
Whispered  to  it,  "  Westward  !  westward  I1 
And  with  speed  it  darted  forward. 

And  the  evening  sun  descending 
Set  the  clouds  on  fire  with  redness, 
Burned  the  broad  sky,  like  a  prairie, 
Left  upon  the  level  water 
One  long  track  and  trail  of  splendor, 
Down  whose  stream,  as  down  a  river, 
Westward,  westward  Hiawatha 
Sailed  into  the  fiery  sunset, 
Sailed  into  the  purple  vapors, 
Sailed  into  the  dusk  of  evening. 

And  the  people  from  the  margin 
Watched  him  floating,  rising,  sinking, 
Till  the  birch  canoe  seemed  lifted 
High  into  that  sea  of  splendor, 


HIAWATHA'S  DEPARTURE.  388 

Till  it  sank  into  the  vapors 
Like  the  new  moon  slowly,  slowly 
Sinking  in  the  purple  distance. 

And  they  said,  "  Farewell  forever ! " 
Said,  "  Farewell,  O  Hiawatha ! " 
And  the  forests,  dark  and  lonely, 
Moved  through  all  their  depths  of  darkness. 
Sighed,  "  Farewell,  O  Hiawatha  1  * 
And  the  waves  upon  the  margin 
Rising,  rippling  on  the  petbles, 
Sobbed,  "  Farewell,  O  Hiawatha  !  " 
And  the  heron,  the  Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From  her  haunts  among  the  fen-lands, 
Screamed,  "  Farewell,  O  Hiawatha  I " 

Thus  departed  Hiawatha, 
Hiawatha  the  Beloved, 
In  the  glory  of  the  sunset, 
In  the  purple  mists  of  evening, 
To  the  regions  of  the  home-wind, 
Of  the  Northwest  wind  Keewaydua, 
To  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed, 
To  the  kingdom  of  Ponemah, 
To  the  land  of  the  Hereafter ! 


VOCABULARY. 


Adjidau'mo,  the  red  squirrel. 

Ahdeek',  the  reindeer. 

Ahkose'win,  fever. 

Ahnwek',  the  beaver. 

Algon'quin,  Ojibway. 

Annemee'kee,  the  thunder. 

Apuk'wa,  a  bulrush. 

Baim-wa'wa,  the  sound  of  the 
thunder. 

Bemah'gut,  the  grape-vine. 

Be'na,  the  pheasant. 

Big-Sea-Water,  Lake  Superior. 

Bukada/win,/awime. 

Cheeniaunt.  a  birch  canoe. 

Chetowaik/,  the  plover. 

Obibia'bos,  a  musician  ;  friend 
of  Hiaieatha;  ruler  in  the 
Land  of  Spirits. 

Dahio/da,  the  bull-frog. 

Dush-kwo-ne'-she,  or  Kwo-ne/- 
ghe,  the  dragon-fly. 

Esa,  shame  upon  you. 

Ewa-yea/,  lullaby. 

Ghee'zis.  the  sun. 

Qitche  Gufmee,  the  Big-Sea- 
Water,  Lake  Superior. 

Gitche  Man'ito.  the  Great  Spir- 
it, the  Master  of  Life. 

Gughkewau',  the  darkness. 

Hiawa/tha,  the  Wise  Man,  the 
Teacher ;  son  ofMitdjekenms, 
the  West  Wind,  and  Weno- 
nah.  daughter  of  Nokomis. 

la'goo,  a  great  boaster  and  story- 
teller. 

Inintewug,  men,  or  pawns  in  the 
Game  of  the  Bowl. 

Jghkoodah',./ire ;  a  comet. 

Jee'bi,  a  g/io.vt,  a  spirit. 

Joss/ukeed,  a  prophet. 

VOL.   II          25  (2 


Kabibonok/ka,  the  North-  Wind. 

Kagh,  the  hedgehog. 

Ka'go,  do  not. 

Kahgahgeef,  the  raven. 

Kaw,  no. 

Kaween',  no  indeed. 

Kayoshk/,  the  sea-guU. 

Kee'go,  a  fish. 

Keeway/din,      the      Northwe* 

Wind,  the  Home^wind. 
Keiui'beek,  a  serpent. 
Keneu',  the  great  war-eaglt. 
Keno'zha,  the  pickerel. 
Ko'ko-ko'ho,  the  owl. 
Kuuiasoo',  the  Game  of  Plum- 

stones. 

Kwa/sind,  the  Strong  Man. 
Kwo-ne'-she,  or  Dush-kwo-na/- 

she,  the  dragon-fly. 
Mahnahbe'zee,  the  swan. 
Mahng,  the  loon. 
Mahn-go-tay/see,    loon-hearted, 

brave. 

Mahnomo'nee,  vrild  rice. 
Ma'ma,  the  woodpecker. 
Maskeno/zha,  the  pike. 


Mefda,  a  medi 
Meenah^c 


'eenah/ga,  the  blueberry. 

Megissog'won,  the  great  Pearl- 
Feather,  a  magician,  and  tht 
Manila  of  Wealth. 

Meshinau/wa,  a  pipe-bearer. 

Miiijekali/wun,      Hiawatha'* 
mittens. 

Minneha'ha,  Laughing  Water; 
a  water-fall  on  a  stream  run- 
ning into  the  Mississippi,  bt- 
tiettn  Fort  Snelling  and  th» 
Falls  of  St.  Anthony. 


586 


VOCABULARY. 


Mlnneha'ha.  Laughing  Water  ; 
wife  of  Hiawatha. 

Pe'boan,  Winter. 
Pemi'can,  meat  of  the  deer  or 

Minue-wa'wa,  a  pleasant  sound, 

buffalo  dried  and  pounded. 

as  of  t/u  wind  in  the  trees. 
MMie-Mo'kwa,  the  Great  Bear. 

Pezhckec',  the  bison. 
Pishneknh/   the  brant. 

Mishe-Nak'ma,  the  Great  Stur- 

Pone'mah, hereafter. 

geon. 

Pugaiiaingr,  Game  of  the  Bowl. 

Miskodeed',*A«  Spring-Beauty, 

Puggawau'gun,  a  war-club. 

the  Claytonia  Virginica. 

Puk-Wudj'ies,  little  wild  mem 

Monda'min,  Indian  corn. 

of  the  woods  ;  pigmiet. 

Moon  of  Bright  Nights,  April. 
Moon  of  Leaves,  May. 

Sah-sah-je'-wun.  rapids. 
Sah'wa,  the  perch. 

Moon  of  Strawberries,  June. 

Segwun/,  Spring. 

Moon  of  the    Falling   Leaves, 

Sha/da,  the  pelican. 

September. 

Shahbo'Diia,  the  gooseberry. 

Moon  of  Snow-Shoes,  Novem- 

Shah-shah, long  age. 

ber. 

Shaugoda/ya,  a  coward. 

Mudjekee'wis.  the  West-Wind; 
father  of  Hiawatha. 

Shawgashee,  the  craw-fish. 
Bhawonda'aee,  the  South-Wind. 

Mudway-aash'ka,     sound     of 

Shaw'ahaw,  the  nraliow. 

waves  on  a  shore. 

Shesh-ebwug,  ducks  ;  pieces  in 

Mushkoda'sa,  the  grouse. 

the  Game  of  the  Bowl. 

Nah'ma,  the  sturgeon. 

Shin'gebis,  the  direr,  or  greebe. 

Nah'ma-wusk,  spearmint. 

Showain/  tieme'shin,  pi:y  me. 

Na/gow    Wudj'oo,     the    Sand 
Dunes  of  Isike  Superior. 

Rlmh-Khuh'gah,  the  blue  heron. 
Soan-u'e-ta'ha,  strong-hearted. 

Nee-ba-naw'-baigs,    water-spir- 

Subbeka'she,  the  spuler. 

its. 

Sugge'ma,  the  mosquito. 

Nenemoo'sha,  sweetheart. 

To'tem,  family  coat-of-arm* 

Nepah'win,  sleep. 

Ugh,  yes. 

Noko'mis,      a      grandmother; 

Ugudwash',  the  sun-fish. 

mother  of  WenonaA 

Unktaheef,  the  God  of  Water. 

No'sa,  my  father. 

Wahas'so,  the  rabbit  ;  the  Nortk. 

Nush'ka,  look!  look! 

Wabe'no,  a  magician,  a  juggler. 

Odah'min,  the  strawberry. 

Wabe'uo-wusk,  yarrow. 

Okahah'wis,     the   fresh-water 

Wa'bun,  the  East-Wind. 

herring. 

Wa/bun  An'nuntr,  the  Star  of 

Ome'me,  the  pigton. 
Ona'gon,  a.  bowl. 

the  East,  the  Morning  Star. 
Wahono'win,  a  cry  of  lamenta- 

Onawayf, awake. 

tion. 

Ope'chee,  the  robin. 
Osse'o,    Son    of  the    Evening 

Wah-wah-tay'see,  the  fire-fly. 
Wani'pum,  beads  of  shell. 

Star. 

Waubfwv'on,     a    white     MX 

Owals'sa,  the  blue-bird. 

wrapper. 

Oweenee'  wife  of  Osseo. 

Wa'wa.  the  wild-goose. 

Ozawa'beek,  a  round  piere  of 
brass  or  topper  in  the  Game 
of  the  Bowl. 

Waw'beek,  a  rock. 
Waw-be-wa/wa,  the  white  goose. 
Wawonaia'sa,  the  whippoorwill. 

Pah-puk-kee'na,  the  grasshop- 

Wav-muk-kwa'na,    the    cater- 

per. 

pillar. 

Pau'jruk,  death. 
Pau-I'uk-Kw'wis,     the    hand- 

Wen'digoes, giants. 
Weno'iiah   Hinti-nthn^smother^ 

some    Ytnaiiizze.  tht  Storm 

daughter  of  Xnkomis. 

Fool. 

Yenadiz're.  an  i,l!er  and  gam- 

P»uwa.'tlng,5ai« Sainte  Marie. 

bler;  an  Indian  dandy. 

COURTSHIP   OF   MILES    STANDISH. 


1868. 


MILES   8TANDISH. 

~-      . 

IN  the  Old  Colony  days,  in  Plymouth  the  land  of 

the  Pilgrims, 
To  and  fro  in  a  room  of  his  simple  and  primitive 

dwelling, 
Clad  in  doublet  and  hose,  and  boots  of  Cordovan 

leather, 

Strode,  with  a  martial  air,  Miles  Standish  the  Puri- 
tan Captain. 
Buried  in  thought  he  seemed,  with  his  hands  behind 

him,  and  pausing 
Ever  and  anon  to  behold  his  glittering  weapons  of 

warfare, 
Hanging  in  shining  array  along  the  walls  of  the 

chamber,  — 
Cutlass  and  corslet  of  steel,  and  his  trusty  sword  of 

Damascus, 
Curved  at  the  point  and  inscribed  with  its  mystical 

Arabic  sentence, 
While  underneath,  in  a  corner,  were  fowling-piece, 

musket,  and  matchlock. 
Short  of  stature  he  was,  but   strongly  built  and 

athletic, 
Broad  in  the  shoulders,  deep-chested,  with  muscles 

and  sinews  of  iron  ; 
Brown  as  a  nut  was  his  face,  but  his  russet  beard 

was  already 
Flaked  with  patches  of  snow,  as  hedges  sometimes 

in  November. 
Near  him  was  seated  John  Alden,  his  friend,  and 

household  companion, 
Writing  with  diligent  speed  at  a  table  of  pine  by 

the  window ; 


890     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH. 


Fair-Laired,  azure-eyed,  with  delicate  Saxon  Com- 
plexion, 

Having  the  dew  of  his  youth,  and  the  beauty  thereof, 
as  the  captives 

Whom  Saint  Gregory  saw,  and  exclaimed,  "  Not 
Angles  but  Angels." 

Youngest  of  all  was  he  of  the  men  who  came  in 
the  May  Flower. 

Suddenly  breaking  the  silence,  the  diligent  scribe 

interrupting, 
Spake,  in  the  pride  of  his  heart,  Miles  Standish  the 

Captain  of  Plymouth. 
"  Look  at  these  arms,"  he  said,  "  the  warlike  weapons 

that  hang  here 
Burnished  and  bright  and  clean,  as  if  for  parade  or 

inspection  ! 
This  is  the  sword  of  Damascus  I  fought  with  in 

Flanders ;  this  breastplate, 
Well  I  remember  the  day  !  once  saved  my  life  in  a 

skirmish ; 
Here  in  front  you  can  see  the  very  dint  of  the 

bullet 
Fired  point-blank  at  my  heart  by  a  Spanish  arca- 

Ducero. 
Had  it  not  been  of  sheer  steel,  the  forgotten  bonea 

of  Miles  Standish 
Would  at  this  moment  be  mould,  in  their  grave  in 

the  Flemish  morasses." 
Thereupon  answered  John  Alden,  tut  looked  not 

up  from  his  writing  : 
"  Truly  the  breath  of  the  Lord  hath  slackened  the 

speed  of  the  bullet ; 
He  in  his  mercy  preserved  you,  to  be  our  shield  and 

our  weapon  !  " 
Still  the  Captain  continued,  unheeding  the  words 

of  the  stripling  : 
*  See,  how  bright  they  are  burnished,  as  if  in  an 

arsenal  hanging; 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILES   STANDISU.     391 

That  is  because  I  have  done  it  myself,  and  not  left 

it  to  others. 
Serve  yourself,  would  you  be  well  served,  is  an 

excellent  adage ; 
So  I  take  care  of  my  arms,  as  you  of  your  pens  and 

your  inkhorn. 
Then,  too,  there  are  nay  soldiers,  my  great,  invincible 

army, 
Twelve  men,  all  equipped,  having  each  his  rest  and 

his  matchlock, 
Eighteen  shillings  a  month,  together  with  diet  and 


And,  like  Caesar,  I  know  the  name  of  each  of  my 

soldiers ! " 
This  he  said  with  a  smile,  that  danced  in  his  eyes, 

as  the  sunbeams 
Dance  on  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  vanish  again  in 

a  moment. 
Alden  laughed  as  he  wrote,  and  still  the  Captain 

continued : 
"  Look  !  you  can  see  from  this  window  my  brazen 

howitzer  planted 
High  on  the  roof  of  the  church,  a  preacher  who 

speaks  to  the  purpose, 
Steady,  straight-forward,  and  strong,  with  irresistible 

logic, 
Orthodox,  flashing  conviction  right  into  the  hearts 

of  the  heathen. 
Now  we  are  ready,  I  think,  for  any  assault  of  the 

Indians ; 
Let  them  come,  if  they  like,  and  the  sooner  they  try 

it  the  better,  — 
Let  them  come  if  they  like,  be  it  sagamore,  sachem, 

or  pow-wow, 
Aspinet,  Samoset,  Corbitant,  Squanto,  or  Tokania- 

hamon  ! " 

Long  at  the  window  he  stood,  and  wistfully  gazed 
on  the  landscape, 


392     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

Washed  with  a  cold  gray  mist,  the  vapory  breath  of 

the  east-wind, 
Forest  and  meadow  and  hill,  and  the  steel-blue  rim 

of  the  ocean, 
Lying  silent  and  sad,  in  the  afternoon  shadows  and 

sunshine. 
Over  his  countenance  flitted  a  shadow  like  those  on 

the  landscape, 
Gloom  intermingled  with  light;  and  his  voice  WM 

subdued  with  emotion, 

Tenderness,  pity,  regret,  as  after  a  pause  he  pro- 
ceeded : 
"  Yonder  there,  on  the  hill  by  the  sea,  lies  buried 

Rose  Standish ; 
Beautiful  rose  of  love,  that  bloomed  for  me  by  the 

wayside  ! 
She  was  the  first  to  die  of  all  who  came  in  the  May 

Flower ! 
Green  above  her  is  growing  the  field  of  wheat  we 

have  sown  there, 
Better  to  hide  from  the  Indian  scouts  the  graves  of 

our  people, 
Lest  they  should  count  them  and  see  how  many 

already  have  perished  I  " 
Sadly  his  face  he  averted,  and  strode  up  and  down, 

and  was  thoughtful. 

Fixed  to  the  opposite  wall  was  a  shelf  of  books, 

and  among  them 
Prominent  three,  distinguished  alike  for  bulk  and 

for  binding ; 
Barifl'e's  Artillery  Guide,  and  the  Commentaries  of 

CiL'.sur, 
Out  of  the  Latin  translated  by  Arthur  Goldinge  of 

London, 
And,  as  if  guarded  by  these,  between  them  wai 

standing  the  Bible. 
Musing  a   moment   before   them,   Miles   Standifih 

paused,  as  if  doubtful 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH.     393 

Which  of  the  three  he  should  choose  for  his  conso- 
lation and  comfort, 

Whether  the  wars  of  the  Hebrews,  the  famous 
campaigns  of  the  Romans, 

Or  the  Artillery  practice,  designed  for  belligerent 
Christians. 

Finally  down  from  its  shelf  he  dragged  the  ponder- 
ous Roman, 

Seated  himself  at  the  window,  and  opened  the  book, 
and  in  silence 

Turned  o'er  the  well-worn  leaves,  where  thumb- 
marks  thick  on  the  margin, 

Like  the  trample  of  feet,  proclaimed  the  battle  waa 
hottest. 

Nothing  was  heard  in  the  room  but  the  hurrying 
pen  of  the  stripling, 

Busily  writing  epistles  important,  to  go  by  the  May 
Flower, 

Ready  to  sail  on  the  morrow,  or  next  day  at  latest, 
God  willing ! 

Homeward  bound  with  the  tidings  of  all  that  terrible 
winter, 

Lettfrs  written  by  Alden,  and  full  of  the  name  of 
Priscilla, 

Full  of  the  name  and  the  fame  of  the  Fmtan 
maiden  Priscilla ! 


It 

LOVE    AND    FRIENDSHIP. 

NOTHING  was  heard  in  the  room  but  the  hurrying 

pen  of  the  stripling, 
Or  an  occasional  sigh  from  the  laboring  heart  of  the 

Captain, 
Reading  the  marvellous  words  and  achievements  of 

Julius  Csesar. 
After  a  while  he  exclaimed,  as  he  smote  with  his 

hand,  palm  downwards, 
Heavily  on  the  page :  "  A  wonderful  man  was  this 

'Caesar ! 
You  are  a  writer,  and  I  ain  a  fighter,  but  here  is  a 

fellow 
Who  could  both  write  and  fight,  and  in  both  waa 

equally  skilful ! " 
Straightway  answered  and  spake  John  Alden,  the 

comely,  the  youthful : 
"  Yes,  he  was  equally  skilled,  as  you  say,  -with  his 

pen  and  his  weapons. 
Somewhere  have  I  read,  but  where  I  forget,  he 

could  dictate 
Seven  letters  at  once,  at  the  same  time  writing  hit 

memoirs." 
"  Truly,"  continued  the   Captain,  not  heeding  or 

hearing  the  other, 

"  Truly  a  wonderful  man  was  Caius  Julius  Caesar ! 
Better  be  first,  he  said,  in  a  little  Iberian  village, 
Than  be  second  in  Rome,  and  I  think  he  was  right 

when  he  said  it, 
Twice  was  he  married  before  he  was  twenty,  and 

many  times  alter  ; 
Battles  live   hundred  he   fought,  and  a  thousand 

cities  he  conquered ; 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILES   STANDISH.     395 

Ho,  too,  fought  in  Flanders,  as  he  himself  has  re- 
corded ; 

Finally  he  was  stabbed  by  his  friend,  the  orator 
Brutus ! 

Now,  do  you  know  what  he  did  on  a  certain  occa- 
sion in  Flanders, 

When  the  rear-guard  of  his  army  retreated,  the 
front  giving  way  too, 

And  the  immortal  Twelfth  Legion  was  crowded  so 
closely  together 

There  was  no  room  for  their  swords  ?  Why,  he 
seized  a  shield  from  a  soldier, 

Put  himself  straight  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  and 
commanded  the  captains, 

Calling  on  each  by  his  name,  to  order  forward  the 
ensigns ; 

Then  to  widen  the  ranks,  and  give  more  room  for 
their  weapons ; 

So  he  won  the  day,  the  battle  of  something-or- 
other. 

That's  what  I  always  say ;  if  you  wish  a  thing  to 
be  well  done, 

You  must  do  it  yourself,  you  must  not  leave  it  to 
others ! " 

All  was  silent  again ;  the  Captain  continued  his 

reading. 
Nothing  was  heard  in  the  room  but  the  hurrying 

pen  of  the  stripling 
Writing  epistles  important  to  go  next  day  by  the 

May  Flower, 
Filled  with  the  name  and  the  fame  of  the  Puritan 

maiden  Priscilla ; 
Every  sentence   began  or  closed  with  the  name 

of  Priscilla, 
Till  the  treacherous  pen,  to  which  he  confided  the 

secret, 
Strove  to  betray  it  by  singing  and  shouting  the 

name  of  Priscilla ! 


896     THE   COURTSHIP  OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

Finally  closing  his  book,  with  a  bang  of  the  pon 

derous  cover, 

Sudden  and  loud  as  the  sound  of  a  soldier  ground- 
ing his  nmskct, 
Thus  to  the   young  man  spake  Miles  Standish  the 

Captain  of  Plymouth  : 

*'  When  you  have  finished  your  work,  I  have  some- 
thing important  to  tell  you. 
Be  not  however  in  haste ;  I  can  wait ;  I  shall  not 

be  impatient ! " 
Straightway  Alden  replied,  as  he  folded  the  last  of 

his  letters, 
Pushing  his  papers  aside,  and  giving  respectful 

attention : 
"  Speak ;  for  whenever  you  speak,  I  am  always 

ready  to  listen, 
Always  ready  to  hear  whatever  pertains  to  Miles 

Standish." 
Thereupon   answered   the    Captain,  embarrassed, 

and  culling  his  phrases  : 
*'  'Tis  not  good  for  a  man   to  be  alone,  say  the 

Scriptures. 
This  I  have  said  before,  and  again  and  again  I 

repeat  it ; 
Every  hour  in  the  day,  I  think  it,  and  feel  it,  and 

say  it. 
Since  Rose  Standish  died,  my  life  has  been  weary 

and  dreary ; 
Sick  at  heart  have  I  been,  beyond  the  healing  of 

friendship. 
Oft   in   my  lonely  hours   have  I  thought   of  the 

maiden  Priscilla. 
She  is  alone  in  the  world  ;  her  father  and  mother 

and  brother 
Died  in  the  winter  together ;  I  saw  her  going  and 

coming, 
Now  to  the  grave  of  the  dead,  and  now  to  the  bed 

of  the  dying, 


THE    COURTSHIP   OF   MILES    STANDISH.     397 

Patient,  courageous,  and  strong,  and  said  to  myself, 

that  if  ever 
There  were  angels  on  earth,  as  there  are  angels  in 

heaven, 
Two  have  I  seen  and  known  ;  and  the  angel  whose 

name  is  Priscilla 
Holds  in  my  desolate  life  the  place  which  the  other 

abandoned. 
Long  have  I  cherished  the  thought,  but  never  have 

dared  to  reveal  it, 
Being  a  coward  in  this,  though  valiant  enough  for 

the  most  part. 
Go  to  the  damsel  Priscilla,  the  loveliest  maiden  of 

Plymouth, 
Say  that  a  blunt  old  Captain,  a  man  not  of  words 

but  of  actions, 
Ofiers  his  hand  and  his  heart,  the  hand  and  heart 

of  a  soldier. 
Not  in  these  words,  you  know,  but  this  in  short  is 

my  meaning ; 

I  am  a  maker  of  war,  and  not  a  maker  of  phrases. 
You,  who  are  bred  as  a  scholar,  can  say  it  in  ele- 
gant language, 
Such  as  you  read  in  your  books  of  the  pleadings 

and  wooings  of  lovers, 
Such  as  you  think  best  adapted  to  win  the  heart  of 

a  maiden." 

When   he  had  spoken,  John   Alden,  the  fair- 

haired,  taciturn  stripling, 
All  aghast  at  his  words,  surprised,  embarrassed, 

bewildered, 
Trying  to  mask  his  dismay  by  treating  the  subject 

with  lightness, 
Trying  to  smile,  and  yet  feeling  his  heart  stand 

still  in  his  bosom, 
Just  as  a  timepiece  stops  in  a  house  that  is  stricken 

by  lightning, 


898     THE   COURT81IIP   OF   MILES   8TANDI8H. 


Thus  made  answer  and  spake,  or  rather  stammered 
than  answered  : 

"  Such  a  iiKvsagt:  as  that,  I  am  sure  I  should  mao- 
gle  and  mar  it  ; 

If  you  would  hare  it  well  done,  —  I  am  only  re- 
peating your  maxim, — - 

You  must  do  it  yourself,  you  must  not  leave  it  to 
others ! "  " 

But  with  the  air  of  a  man  whom  nothing  can  tura 
from  his  purpose, 

Gravely  shaking  his  head,. made  answer  the  Cap- 
tain of  Plymouth  : 

"  Truly  the  maxim  is  good,  and  I  do  not  mean  to 
gainsay  it ; 

But  we  must  use  it  discreetly,  and  not  waste  pow- 
der for  nothing. 

Now,  as  I  said  before,  I  was  never  a  maker  of 
phrases. 

I  can  march  up  to  a  fortress  and  summon  the  place 
to  surrender, 

But  march  up  to  a  woman  with  such  a  proposal,  I 
dare  not 

I'm  not  afraid  of  bullets,  nor  shot  from  the  mouth 
of  a  cannon, 

But  .of  a  thundering  "No!"  point-blank  from  the 
mouth  of  a  woman, 

That  I  confess  I'm  afraid  of,  nor  am  I  ashamed  to 
confess  it  1 

So  you  must  grant  iny  request,  for  you  are  an  ele- 
gant scholar, 

Having  the  graces  of  speech,  and  skill  in  the  turn- 
ing of  phrases." 

Taking  the  hand  of  his  friend,  who  still  was  reluc- 
tant and  doubtful, 

Holding  it  long  in  his  own,  and  pressing  it  kindly, 
he  added  : 

u  Though  I  have  spoken  thus  lightly,  yet  deep  if 
the  feeling  that  prompts  uic ; 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILES    STANDISH.     399 

Surely  you  cannot  refuse  what  I  ask  in  the  name 
of  our  friendship  1 " 

Then  made  answer  John  Alden :  "  The  name  of 
friendship  is  sacred ; 

What  you  demand  in  that  name,  I  have  not  the 
power  to  deny  you  !  " 

So  the  strong  will  prevailed,  subduing  and  mould- 
ing the  gentler, 

Friendship  prevailed  over  love,  and  Alden  went 
on  his  errand. 


m. 

THE   LOVER'S   ERRAND. 

Ko  T>e  strong  will  prevailed,  and  Alden  went  on 
his  errand, 

Out  o*  the  street  of  the  village,  and  into  the  paths 
of  the  forest, 

Into  the  tranquil  woods,  where  blue-birds  and 
robins  were  building 

Towns  in  the  populous  trees,  with  hanging  garden* 
of  verdure, 

Peaceful,  aerial  cities  of  joy  and  affection  and  free- 
dom. 

All  around  him  was  calm,  but  within  him  commo- 
tion and  conflict, 

Love  contending  with  friendship,  and  self  with 
each  generous  impulse. 

To  and  fro  in  his  breast  his  thoughts  were  heaving 
and  dashing, 

As  in  a  foundering  ship,  with  every  roll  of  the 
vessel, 

Washes  the  bitter  sea,  the  merciless  surge  of  the 
ocean ! 

"  Must  I  relinquish  it  all,"  he  cried  with  a  wild 
lamentation, 

"  Must  I  relinquish  it  all,  the  joy,  the  hope,  the 
illusion  ? 

Was  it  for  this  I  have  loved,  and  waited,  and  wor- 
shipped in  silence  ? 

Was  it.  for  this  I  have  followed  the  flying  feet  and 
the  shadow 

Over  the  wintry  sea,  to  the  desolate  shores  of  New 
England  ? 

Truly  the  heart  is  deceitful,  and  out  of  its  depths 
of  corruption 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF  MILES   8TANDI8H.    401 

Rise,  like  an  exhalation,  the  misty  phantoms  of  pas- 
sion ; 

Angels  of  light  they  seem,  but  a~e  only  delusions 
of  Satan. 

All  is  clear  to  me  now ;  I  feel  it,  I  see  it  dis- 
tinctly ! 

This  is  the  hand  of  the  Lord  ;  it  is  laid  upon  me  in 
anger, 

For  I  have  followed  too  much  the  heart's  desires 
and  devices, 

Worshipping  Astaroth  blindly,  and  impious  idols 
of  Baal. 

This  is  the  cross  I  must  bear ;  the  sm  and  the  swif* 
retribution." 

So  through  the  Plymouth  woods  John  Alden  went 
on  his  errand ; 

Crossing  the  brook  at  the  ford,  where  it  brawled 
over  pebble  and  shallow, 

Gathering  still,  as  he  went,  the  May-flowers  bloom- 
ing around  him, 

Fragrant,  filling  the  air  with  a  strange  and  wonder- 
ful sweetness, 

Children  lost  in  the  woods,  and  covered  with  leaves 
in  their  slumber. 

u  Puritan  flowers,"  he  said,  "  and  the  type  of  Puri- 
tan maidens, 

Modest  and  simple  and  sweet,  the  very  type  of 
Priscilla ! 

So  I  will  take  them  to  her ;  to  Priscilla  the  May- 
flower of  Plymouth, 

Moiest  and  simple  and  sweet,  as  a  parting  gift  wil 
I  take  them ; 

Breathing  their  silent  farewells,  as  they  fade  and 
wither  and  perish, 

Soon  to  be  thrown  away  as  is  the  heart  of  the 
giver." 

So  through  the  Plymouth  woods  John  Alden  went 

on  his  errand ; 
VOL.  n.  26 


402     THE  COURTSHIP   OK   MILES   STANDISH. 


Came  to  an  open  space,  and  saw  the  disk  of  th« 

ocean, 
Sailless,  sombre  and  cold  with  the  comfortless  breath 

of  the  east-wind ; 
Saw  the  new-built  house,  and  people  at  work  in  a  • 

meadow ; 
Heard,  as  he  drew  near  the  dot  r,  the  musical  voice 

of  Priscilla 

Singing  the  hundredth  Psalm,  •  le  grand  old  Puri- 
tan anthem, 
Music  that  Luther  sang  to  the  *•  tcred  words  of  the 

Psalmist, 

Full  of  the  breath  of  the  Lord,  consoling  and  com- 
forting many. 
Then,  as  he  opened  the  door,  he  beheld  the  form 

of  the  maiden 
Seated  beside  her  wheel,  and  the  carded  wool  like 

a  snow-drift 
Piled  at  her  knee,  her  white  hands  feeding  the 

ravenous  spindle, 
While  with  her  foot  on  the  treadle  she  guided  the 

whoel  in  its  motion. 
Open  wide  on  her  lap  lay  the  well-worn  psalm-book 

of  Ainsworth, 
Printed  in  Amsterdam,  the  words  and  the  musio 

together, 
Rough-hewn,  angular  notes,  like  stones  in  the  waU 

of  a  churchyard, 
Darkened  and  overhung  by  the  running  vine  of  the 

verses. 
Such  was  the  book  from  whose  pages  she  sang  the 

old  Puritan  anthem, 

She,  the  Puritan  girl,  in  the  solitude  of  the  forest, 
Making  the  humble  house  and  the  modest  apparel 

of  home-spun 
Beautiful  with  her  beauty,  and  rich  with  the  wealth 

of  her  being ! 
Over  him  rushed,  like  a  wind  that  is  keen  and  cold 

and  relentless, 


THE   COURTSHIP  OF   MILES   STANDISH.    4UJ 

Thoughts  of  what  might  have  been,  and  the  weight 

and  woe  of  his  errand  ; 
All  the  dreams  that  had  faded,  and  all  the  hopes 

that  had  vanished, 

All  his  life  henceforth  a  dreary  and  tenantless  man- 
sion, 
Haunted    by  vain   regrets,   and  pallid,   sorrowful 

faces. 
Still  he  said  to  himself,  and  almost  fiercely  he  said 

it, 
"  Let  not  him  that  putteth  his  hand  to  the  plough 

look  backwards ; 
Though  the  ploughshare  cut  through  the  flowers  of 

life  to  its  fountains, 
Though  it  pass  o'er  the  graves  of  the  dead  and  the 

hearts  of  the  living, 
It  is  the  will  of  the  Lord  ;  and  his  mercy  endureth 

for  ever ! " 

So  he  entered  the  house :  and  the  hum  of  the 

wheel  and  the  singing 
Suddenly  ceased  ;  for  Priscilla,  aroused  by  his  step 

on  the  threshold, 

Rose  as  he  entered,  and  gave  him  her  hand,  in  sig- 
nal of  welcome, 
Saying,  "  I  knew  it  was  you,  when  I  heard  yom 

step  in  the  passage ; 
For  I  was  thinking  of  you,  as  I  sat  there  singing 

and  spinning." 
Awkward  and  dumb  with  delight,  that  a  thought  of 

him  had  been  mingled 
Thus  in  the  sacred  psalm,  that  came  from  the  heart 

of  the  maiden, 
Silent  before  her  he  stood,  and  gave  her  the  flowers 

for  an  answer, 
Finding  no  words  for  his  thought.    He  remembered 

that  day  in  the  winter, 
After  the  first  great  suow,  when  he  broke  a  path 

from  the  village, 


401     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   8TANDISH. 

Reeling  and  plunging  along  through  the  drifts  that 

encumbered  the  doorway, 
Stamping  the  snow  from  his  feet  as  he  entered  the 

house,  and  Priscilla 
Laughed  at  his  snowy  locks,  and  gave  him  a  seat 

by  the  fireside, 
Grateful  and  pleased  to  know  he  had  thought  of 

her  in  the  snow-storm. 
Had  he  but  spoken  then  I  perhaps  not  in  vain  had 

he  spoken ; 
Now  it  was  all  too  late;  the  golden  moment  had 

vanished ! 

So  he  stood  there  abashed,  and  gave  her  the  flow- 
ers for  an  answer. 

Then  they  sat  down  and  talked  of  the  birds  and 

the  beautiful  Spring-time, 
Talked  of  their  friends   at  home,  and   the  May 

Flower  that  sailed"  on  the  morrow. 
"I  have  been   thinking  all  day,"  said  gently  the 

Puritan  muiden, 
"Dreaming  all  night,  and  thinking  all  day,  of  the 

hedge-rows  of  England,  — 
They  are  in  blossom  now,  and  the  country  is  all  like 

a  garden ; 
Thinking  of  lanes  and  fields,  and  the  song  of  the 

lark  and  the  linnet, 
Seeing  the  village  street,  and  familiar  faces  of 

neighbors 
Goiug    about    as    of   old,  and   stopping  to  gossip 

together, 
And,  at  the  end  of  the  street,  the  village  church, 

with  the  ivy 
Climbing  the  old  gray  tower,  and  the  quiet  graves 

in  the  churchyard. 
Band  are  the  people  I  live  with,  and  dear  to  me 

uiy  religion  ; 
Still  my  heart  is  so  sad,  that  I  wish  myself  back  in 

Old  England. 


THE   COURTSHIP  OF   MILES  STANDISH.    405 

You  will  say  it  is  wrong,  but  I  cannot  help  it :  I 

almost 
Wish  myself  back  in  Old  England,  I  feel  so  lonely 

and  wretched." 

Thereupon  answered  the  youth  :  —  "  Indeed  I  do 

not  condemn  you ; 
Stouter  hearts  than  a  woman's  have  quailed  in  this 

terrible  winter. 
Yours  is  tender  and  trusting,  and  needs  a  stronger 

to  lean  on ; 
So  I  have  come  to  you  now,  with  an  offer  and 

proffer  of  marriage 
Made  by  a  good  man  and  true,  Miles  Standish  the 

Captain  of  Plymouth  1 " 

Thus  he  delivered  his  message,  the  dexterous 
writer  of  letters, — 

Did  not  embellish  the  theme,  nor  array  it  in  beau- 
tiful phrases, 

But  came  straight  to  the  point,  and  blurted  it  out 
like  a  schoolboy ; 

Even  the  Captain  himself  could  hardly  have  said  it 
more  bluntly. 

Mute  with  amazement  and  sorrow,  Priscilla  the 
Puritan  maiden 

Looked  into  Alden's  face,  her  eyes  dilated  with 
wonder, 

Feeling  his  words  like  a  blow,  that  stunned  her 
and  rendered  her  speechless  ; 

Till  at  length  she  exclaimed,  interrupting  the  omi- 
nous silence : 

M  If  the  great  Captain  of  Plymouth  is  so  very  eager 
to  wed  me, 

Why  does  he  not  come  himself,  and  take  the 
trouble  to  woo  me  ? 

If  I  am  not  worth  the  wooing,  I  surely  am  not 
worth  the  winning  I" 

Then  John  Alden  began  explaining  and  smoothing 
the  matter, 


406     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

Making  it  worse  as  he  went,  by  saying  the  Captain 

was  busy,  — 
Had  no  time  for  such  things;  —  such  things!  the 

words  grating  harshly 
Fell  on  the  car  of  Priscilla;  and  swift  as  a  flash 

she  made  answer : 
"  Has  he   no  time  for  such  things,  as  you  call  it, 

before  he  is  married, 
Would  he  be  likely  to  find  it,  or  make  it,  after  the 

wedding  ? 

That  is  the  way  with  you  men  ;  you  don't  under- 
stand us,  you  cannot. 
When  you  have  made  up  your  minds,  after  thinking 

of  this  one  and  that  one, 
Choosing,  selecting,  rejecting,  comparing  one  with 

another, 
Then  you  make  known  your  desire,  with  abrupt 

and  sudden  avowal, 
And  are  offended  and  hurt,  and  indignant  perhaps, 

that  a  woman 
Does  not  respond  at  once  to  a  love  that  she  never 

suspected, 
Does  not  attain  at  a  bound  the  height  to  which  you 

have  been  climbing. 
This  is  not  right  nor  just:  for  surely  a  woman'a 

affection 
Is  not  a  thing  to  be  asked  for,  and  had  for  only  the 

asking. 
When  one  is  truly  in  love,  one  not  only  says  it,  but 

shows  it 
Had  he  but  waited  awhile,  had  he  only  showed  that 

he  loved  me, 
Even  this  Captain  of  yours  —  who  knows?  —  at  last 

might  have  won  me, 
Old  and  "rough  as  he  is ;  but  now  it  never  can 

happen." 

Still  John  Alden  went  on,  unheeding  the  words 
of  Priscilla, 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH.    407 

Urging  the  suit  of  his  friend,  explaining,  persuading, 

expanding ; 
Spoke  of  his  courage  and  skill,  and  of  all  his  battles 

in  Flanders, 
How  with  the  people  of  God  he  had  chosen  to  suffer 

affliction, 
How,  in  return  for  his  zeal,  they  had  made  him 

Captain  of  Plymouth; 
He  was  a  gentleman  born,  could  trace  his  pedigree 

plainly 

Back  to  Hugh  Standish  of  Duxbury  Hall,  in  Lan- 
cashire, England, 
Who  was  the  son  "of  Ralph,  and  the  grandson  of 

Thurston  de  Standish ; 
Heir  unto  vast  estates,  of  which  he  was  basely 

defrauded, 
Still  bore  the  family  arms,  and  had  for  his  crest  a 

cock  argent 
Combed  and  wattled  gules,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 

blazon. 
He  was  a  man  of  honor,  of  noble  and  generous 

nature ; 
Though  he  was  rough,  he  was  kindly;  she  knew 

how  during  the  winter 
He  had  attended  the  sick,  with  a  hand  as  gentle  as 

woman's ; 
Somewhat  hasty  and  hot,  he  could  not  deny  it,  and 

headstrong, 
Stern  as  a  soldier  might  be,  but  hearty,  and  placable 

always, 
Not  to  be  laughed  at  and  scorned,  because  he  was 

little  of  stature ; 
For  he  was  great  of  heart,  magnanimous,  courtly, 

courageous ; 

Any  woman  in  Plymouth,  nay  any  woman  in  Eng- 
land, 
Might  be  happy  and  proud  to  be  called  the  wife  of 

Miles  Standish  ! 


408     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STAKDISH. 

But  as  he  warmed  and  glowed,  in  his  simple  and 
eloquent  language, 

Quite  forgetful  of  self,  and  full  of  the  praise  of  hia 
rival, 

Archly  the  maiden  smiled,  and,  with  eyes  overrun- 
ning with  laughter, 

Said,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "  Why  don't  you  speak 
for  yourself,  John  ?  " 


rv. 

JOHN   ALDEN. 

INTO  the  open  air  John  Alden,  perplexed  and 
bewildered, 

Rushed  like  a  man  insane,  and  wandered  alone  by 
the  sea-side ; 

Paced  up  and  down  the  sands,  and  bared  his  head 
to  the  east-wind, 

Cooling  his  heated  brow,  and  the  fire  and  fever 
within  him. 

Slowly  as  out  of  the  heavens,  with  apocalyptical 
splendors, 

Sank  the  City  of  God,  in  the  vision  of  John  the 
Apostle, 

So,  with  its  cloudy  walls  of  chrysolite,  jasper,  and 
sapphire, 

Sank  the  broad  red  sun,  and  over  its  turrets  up- 
lifted 

Glimmered  the  golden  reed  of  the  angel  who  meas- 
ured the  city. 

"  Welcome,  O  wind  of  the  East ! "  he  exclaimed 

in  his  wild  exultation, 
"  Welcome,  O  wind  of  the  East,  from  the  caves  of 

the  misty  Atlantic  I 
Blowing    o'er    fields    of   dulse,    and    measureless 

meadows  of  sea-grass, 
Blowing  o'er  rocky  wastes,  and  the   grottos   and 

gardens  of  ocean  ! 
Lay  thy  cold,  moist  hand  on  my  burning  forehead, 

and  wrap  me 
Close  in  thy  garments  of  mist,  to  allay  the  fever 

within  me ! " 

Like  an  awakened  conscience,  the  sea  was  moan- 
ing and  tossing, 


410     TnE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILES   STANDI8H. 

Beating  remorseful  and  loud  the  mutable  sands  of 

the  sea-shore. 
Fierce  in  his  soul  was  the  struggle  and  tumult  of 

passions  contending ; 
Love    triumphant    and    crowned,    and   friendship 

wounded  and  bleeding, 
Passionate  cries  of'desire,  and  importunate  pleadings 

of  duty  ! 
"Is  it  my  fault,"  he  said,  "that  the  maiden  ha« 

chosen  between  us? 
la  it  my  fault  that  he  failed,  —  my  fault  that  I  am 

the  victor  V  " 
Then  within  him  there  thundered  a  voice,  like  the 

voice  of  the  Prophet : 
"It  hath  displeased  the  Lord!"  — and  he  thought 

of  David's  transgression, 
Bathsheba's   beautiful  face,  and  his  friend  in  the 

front  of  the  battle  ! 
Shame  and  confusion  of  guilt,  and  abasement  and 

self-condemnation, 
Overwhelmed  him  at  once ;  and  he  cried  in  the 

deepest  contrition  : 
"  It  hath  displeased  the  Lord !     It  is  the  temptation 

of  Satan ! " 

Then,  uplifting  his  head,  he  looked  at  the  sea, 

and  beheld  there 
Dimly  the  shadowy  form  of  the  May  Flower  riding 

at  anchor. 
Rocked  on  the  rising  tide,  and  ready  to  sail  on  the 

morrow ; 
Heard  the  voices  of  men  through  the  mist,  the  rattle 

of  cordage 
Thrown  on  the  deck,  the  shouts  of  the  mate,  and 

the  sailors'  "  Ay,  ay,  Sir  1  " 
Clear  and  distinct,  but  not  loud,  in  the  dripping  air 

of  the  twilight. 
Still  for  a  moment  he  stood,  and  listened,  and  stared 

at  the  vessel, 


THE  COURTSHIP  OF  MILES   STANDISH.    411 

Then   went  hurriedly   on,  as   one  who,  seeing  a 

phantom, 
Stops,   then    quickens  his   pace,   and  follows   the 

beckoning  shadow. 
"  Yes,  it  is  plain  to  me  now,"  he  murmured  ;  "  the 

hand  of  the  Lord  is 
Leading  me  out  of  the  land  of  darkness,  the  bondage 

of  error, 
Ihrough  the   sea,  that  shall  lift  the  walls   of  its 

waters  around  me, 
Hiding  me,  cutting  me  off,  from  the  cruei  thoughts 

that  pursue  me. 
Back  will  I  go  o'er  the  ocean,  this  dreary  land  will 

abandon, 
Her  whom  I  may  not  love,  and  him  whom  my  heart 

has  offended. 

Better  to  be  in  my  grave  in  the  green  old  church- 
yard in  England, 
Close  by  my  mother's  side,  and  among  the  dust  of 

my  kindred ; 
Better  be  dead  and  forgotten,  than  living  in  shame 

and  dishonor ! 
Sacred  and  safe  and  unseen,  in  the  dark  of  the 

narrow  chamber 
With  me  my  secret  shall  lie,  like  a  buried  jewel 

that  glimmers 
Bright  on  the  hand  that  is  dust,  in  the  chambers  of 

silence  and  darkness, — 
Yes,  as   the   marriage  ring  of  the  great  espousal 

hereafter ! " 

Thus  as  he  spake,  he  turned,  in  the  strength  of 

his  strong  resolution, 
Leaving  behind  him  the  shore,  and  hurried  along 

in  the  twilight, 
Through  the  congenial  gloom  of  the  forest  silent 

and  sombre, 
Till  he  beheld  the  lights  in  the  seven  houses  of 

Plymouth, 


412     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   8TANPISH. 

Shining  like  seven  stars  in  the  dusk  and  mist  of  the 
evening. 

Soon  he  entered  his  door,  and  found  the  redoubt- 
able Captain 

Sitting  alone,  and  absorbed  in  the  martial  pages  of 
Caesar, 

Fighting  some  great  campaign  in  Ilainault  or  Bra- 
bant or  Flanders. 

M  Long  have  you  been  on  your  errand,"  he  said 
with  a  cheery  demeanor, 

Even  as  one  who  is  waiting  an  answer,  and  fears 
not  the  issue. 

"  Not  far  off  is  the  house,  although  the  woods  are 
between  us ; 

But  you  have  lingered  so  long,  that  while  you  were 
going  and  coming 

I  have  fought  ten  battles  and  sacked  and  de- 
molished a  city. 

Come,  sit  down,  and  in  order  relate  to  me  all  that 
has  happened." 

Then  John  Alden  spake,  and  related  the  won- 
drous adventure, 

From  beginning  to  end,  minutely,  just  as  it  hap- 
pened ; 

How  he  had  seen  Priscilla,  and  how  he  had  sped 
in  his  courtship, 

Only  smoothing  a  little,  and  softening  down  her 
refusal. 

But  when  he  came  at  length  to  the  words  Priscilla 
had  spoken, 

Words  so  tender  and  cruel :  "  Why  don't  you  speak 
for  yourself,  John  V  " 

Up  leaped  the  Captain  of  Plymouth,  and  stamped 
on  the  floor,  till  his  armor 

Clanged  OH  the  wall,  where  it  hung,  with  a  sound 
of  sinister  omen. 

All  his  pent-up  Wrath  burst  forth  in  a  sudden  ex- 
plosion, 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH.     413 

Even  as  a  hand-grenade,  that  scatters  destruction 

around  it. 
Wildly  he  shouted,  and  loud  :  "  John  Alden  !  you 

have  betrayed  me  ! 
Me,  Miles  Standish,  your  friend  !  have  supplanted, 

defrauded,  betrayed  me  I 
One  of  my  ancestors  ran  his  sword  through  the 

heart  of  AVat  Tyler ; 
Who   shall   prevent    me   from    running    my   own 

through  the  heart  of  a  traitor  ? 
Yours  is  the  greater  treason,  for  yours  is  -a  treason 

to  friendship ! 
You,  who  lived  under  my  roof,  whom  I  cherished 

and  loved  as  a  brother; 
You,  who  have  fed  at  my  board,  and  drunk  at  my 

cup,  to  whose  keeping 
I  have  intrusted  my  honor,  my  thoughts  the  most 

sacred  and  secret,  — 
You  too,  Brutus  !  ah  woe  to  the  name  of  friendship 

hereafter ! 
Brutus  was  Caesar's  friend,  and  you  were  mine,  but 

henceforward 

Let  there  be  nothing  between  us  save  war,  and  im- 
placable hatred ! " 

So  spake  the  Captain  of  Plymouth,  and  strode 

about  in  the  chamber, 
Chafing  and  choking  with  rage ;  like  cords  were 

the  veins  on  his  temples. 
But  in  the  midst  of  his  anger  a  man  appeared  at 

the  doorway, 
Bringing  in  uttermost  haste  a  message  of  urgent 

importance, 
Rumors  of  danger  and  war  and  hostile  incursions 

of  Indians  ! 

Straightway  the  Captain  paused,  and,  without  fur- 
ther question  or  parley, 
fook  from  the  nail  on  the  wall  his  sword  with  iti 

scabbard  of  iron, 


414     THE   COURTSHIP  OP   MILES    STANDISTI. 

Buckled  the  belt  round  his  waist,  and,  frowning 

fiercely,  departed. 
Alden  was  left  alone.     He  heard  the  clank  of  the 

scabbard 
Growing  fainter  and  fainter,  and  dying  away  in  the 

distance. 
Then  he  arose  from  his  seat,  and  looked  forth  into 

the  darkness, 
Felt  the  cool  air  blow  on  his  cheek,  that  was  hot 

with  the  insult. 
Lifted  his  eyes  to  the  heavens,  and,  folding  his 

hands  as  in  childhood, 
Prayed  in  the  silence  of  night  to  the  Father  who 

seeth  in  secret. 

Meanwhile  the  choleric  Captain  strode  wrathful 
away  to  the  council, 

Found  it  already  assembled,  impatiently  waiting  his 
coming ; 

Men  in  the  middle  of  life,  austere  and  grave  in  de- 
portment, 

Only  one  of  them  old,  the  hill  that  was  nearest  to 
heaven, 

Covered  with  snow,  but  erect,  the  excellent  Elder 
of  Plymouth. 

God  had  sifted  three  kingdoms  to  find  the  wheat 
for  this  planting, 

Then  had  sifted  the  wheat,  as  the  living  seed  of  a 
nation  ; 

So  say  the  chronicles  old,  and  such  is  the  faith  of 
the  people  1 

Near  them  was  standing  an  Indian,  in  attitude 
stern  and  defiant, 

Naked  down  to  the  waist,  and  grim  and  ferocious 
in  aspect ; 

While  on  the  table  before  them  was  lying  un- 
opened a  Bible, 

Ponderous,  bound  in  leather,  brass-studded,  printed 
iu  Holland, 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STAXDISH.    415 

And  beside  it  outstretched  the  skin  of  a  rattlesnake 

glittered, 
Filled,  like  a  quiver,  with   arrows ;   a  signal  and 

challenge  of  warfare, 
Brought  by  the  Indian,  and  speaking  with  arrowy 

tongues  of  defiance. 
This  Miles  Standish  beheld,  as  he   entered,  and 

heard  them  debating 
What  were  an  answer  befitting  the  hostile  message 

and  menace, 
Talking  of  this  and  of  that,  contriving,  suggesting, 

objecting ; 
One  voice  only  for  peace,  and  that  the  voice  of  the 

Elder, 
Judging  it  wise  and  well  that  some  at  least  were 

converted, 

Rather  than  any  were  slain,  for  this  was  but  Chris- 
tian behavior  I 
Then  outspake  Miles  Standish,  the  stalwart  Captain 

of  Plymouth, 
Muttering  deep  in  his   throat,  for  his  voice  was 

husky  with  anger, 
"  What !  do  you  mean  to  make  war  with  milk  and 

the  water  of  roses  ? 
Is  it  to  shoot  red  squirrels  you  have  your  howitzer 

planted 
There  on  the  roof  of  the  church,  or  is  it  to  shoot 

red  devils? 
Truly  the   only  tongue  that   is   understood  by  a 

savage 
Must  be  the  tongue  of  fire  that  speaks  from  the 

mouth  of  the  cannon  !  " 
Thereupon  answered  and  said  the  excellent  Elder 

of  Plymouth, 
Somewhat  amazed  and  alarmed  at  this  irreverent 

language : 
11  Not  so  thought  Saint  Paul,  nor  yet  the  other 

Apostles ; 
Not  from  the  cannon's  mouth  were  the  tongues  of 

fire  they  spake  with  1 " 


416     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STAXDISH. 

But  unheeded  fell  this  mild  rebuke  on  the  Captain, 

"Who  had  advanced  to  the  table,  and  thus  con- 
tinued discoursing: 

"Leave  this  matter  to  me,  for  to  me  by  right  it 
pertaineth. 

War  is  a  terrible  trade ;  but  in  the  cause  that  is 
righteous, 

Sweet  is  the  smell  of  powder ;  and  thus  I  answer 
the  challenge  1 " 

Then  from  the  rattlesnake's  skin,  with  a  sudden, 

contemptuous  gesture, 
Jerking  the  Indian  arrows,  he  filled  it  with  powder 

and  bullets 
Full  to  the  very  jaws,  and  handed  it  back  to  the 

savage, 
Saying,  iu  thundering  tones :  "  Here,  take  it !  this 

is  your  answer  1 " 
Silently  out  of  the  room  then  glided  the  glistening 

savage, 
Bearing  the  serpent's  skin,  and  seeming  himself 

Tike  a  serpent, 
Winding  his  sinuous  way  in  the  dark  to  the  depths 

of  the  forest 


V. 

IVfc     -'.A  V>    OF   THE   MAY   FLO  WEB. 

&  }4i  m  the  „$!»}•  of  tus  dawu,  as  the  mists  uprose 

from  ^he  meadows, 
TL'ira  was  a  stir  ami  a  sound  in  the  slumbering 

village  of  Plymouth; 

Clanging  and  clicking  of  arms,  and  the  order  im- 
perative, "  Forward  1 " 
Given  in  tone  suppressed,  a  tramp  of  feet,  and  then 

silence. 
Figures  ten,  in  the  mist,  marched  slowly  out  of  the 

village. 

Btandish  the  stalwart  it  was,  with  eight  of  his  valor- 
ous army, 
Led  by  their  Indian  guide,  by  Kobomok,  friend  of 

the  white  men, 
Northward  marching  to  quell  the  eudden  revolt  of 

the  savage. 
Giants  they  seemed  in  the  mist,  or  the  mighty  men 

of  King  David ; 
Giants  in  heart  they  were,  who  believed  in  God 

and  the  Bible, — 
Ay,  who  believed  in  the  smiting  of  Midianites  and 

Philistines. 
Over  them  gleamed  far  off  the  crimson  banners  of 

morning ; 
Under  them  loud  on  the  sands,  the  serried  billows, 

advancing, 
Tired  along  the  line,  and  in  regular  order  retreated. 

Many  a  mile  had  they  marched,  when  at  length 

the  village  of  Plymouth 

Woke  from  its  sleep,  and  arose,  intent  on  its  mani- 
fold labors. 
YOU  ii  27 


418     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILKS   STANDISH. 

Sweet  was  the  air  and  soft  ;  and  slowly  the  smoke 

from  the  chimneys 

Rose  over  roofs  of  thatch,  and  pointed  steadily  east- 
ward ; 
Men  came  forth  from  the  doors,  and  paused  and 

talked  of  the  weather, 
Said  that  the  wind  had  changed,  and  was  blowing 

fair  for  the  May  Flower  ; 
Talked  of  their  Captain's  departure,  and  all  the 

dangers  that  menaced, 
He  being  gone,  the  town,  and  what  should  be  done 

in  his  absence. 
Merrily  sang  the  birds,  and  the  tender  voices  of 

women 
Consecrated  with  hymns  the  common  cares  of  the 

household. 

Out  of  the  sea  rose  the  sun,  and  the  billows  re- 
joiced at  his  coming  ; 
Beautiful  were  his  feet  on  the  purple  tops  of  the 

mountains ; 
Beautiful  on  the  sails  of  the  May  Flower  riding  at 

anchor, 
Battered  and  blackened  and  worn  by  all  the  storms 

of  the  winter. 

Loosely  against  her  masts  was  hanging  and  flap- 
ping her  canvas, 
Rent  by  so  many  gales,  and  patched  by  the  hands 

of  the  sailors. 
Suddenly  from  her  side,  as  the  sun  rose  over  the 

ocean, 
J)arted  a  puff  of  smoke,  and  floated  seaward  ;  anon 

rang 
Loud  over  field  and  forest  the  cannon's  roar,  and 

the  echoes 
Heard  and  repeated  the  sound,  the  signal-gun  of 

departure  ! 
Ah !  but  with  louder  echoes  replied  the  hearts  of 

the  people  ! 
Meekly,  in  voices  subdued,  the  chapter  was  read 

from  the  Bible, 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH.    419 

Meekly  the  prayer  was  begun,  but  ended  in  fer- 
vent entreaty  ! 

Then  from  their  houses  in  haste  came  forth  the  Pil- 
grims of  Plymouth, 

Men  and  women  and  children,  all  hurrying  down 
to  the  sea-shore, 

Eager,  with  tearful  eyes,  to  say  farewell  to  the  May 
Flower, 

Homeward  bound  o'er  the  sea,  and  leaving  them 
here  in  the  desert. 

Foremost  among  them  was  Alden.     All  night  he 

had  lain  without  slumber, 
Turning  and  tossing  about  in  the  heat  and  unrest 

of  his  fever. 
He  had  beheld  Miles  Staudish,  who  came  back  late 

from  the  council, 
Stalking  into  the  room,  and  heard  him  mutter  and 

murmur, 
Sometimes  it  seemed  a  prayer,  and  sometimes  it 

sounded  like  swearing. 
Once  he  had  come  to  the  bed,  and  stood  there  a 

moment  in  silence ; 
Then  he  had  turned  away,  and  said:  "I  will  not 

awake  him  ; 
Let  him  sleep  on,  it  is  best ;  for  what  is  the  use  of 

more  talking ! " 
Then  he  extinguished  the  light,  and  threw  himself 

down  on  his  pallet, 
Dressed  as  he  was,  and  ready  to  start  at  the  break 

of  the  morning, — 
Covered  himself  with  the  cloak  he  had  worn  in  hia 

campaigns  in  Flanders, — 
Slept  as  a  soldier  sleeps  in  his  bivouac,  ready  for 

action. 
But  with  the  dawn  he  arose  :  in  the  twilight  Alden 

beheld  him 
Put  on  his  corslet  of  steel,  and  all  the  rest  of  hia 

armor, 


420     THE   COURTSHIP  OF   MILES   STAXDISH. 

Buckle  about  his  waist  his  trusty  blade  of  Damascus, 
Take  from  the  corner  his  musket,  and  so  stride  out 

of  the  chamber. 
Often   the    heart   of  the  youth  had  burned  and 

yearned  to  embrace  him, 
Often  his  lips  had  essayed  to  speak,  imploring  for 

pardon  , 
All  the  old  friendship  came  back,  with  its  tender 

and  grateful  emotions ; 
But  his  pride  overmastered  the  noble  nature  within 

Pride,  and  the  sense  of  his  wrong,  and  the  burning 

fire  of  the  insult. 
So  he  beheld  his  friend  departing  in  anger,  but 

spake  not, 
Saw  him  go  forth  to  danger,  perhaps  to  death,  and 

he  spake  not ! 
Then  he  arose  from  his  bed,  and  heard  what  the 

people  were  saying, 
Joined  in  the  talk  at  the  door,  with  Stephen  and 

Richard  and  Gilbert, 
Joined  in  the  morning  prayer,  and  in  the  reading 

of  Scripture, 
And,  with  the  others,  in  haste  went  hurrying  down 

to  the  sea-shore, 
Down  to  the  Plymouth  Rock,  that  had  been  to  their 

feet  as  a  door-step 
Into  a  world  unknown,  —  the   corner-stone  of  a 

nation  1 

There  with  his  boat  was  the  Master,  already  a 

little  impatient 
Lest  he  should  lose  the  tide,  or  the  wind  might  shift 

to  the  eastward, 
Square-built,  hearty,  and  strong,  with  an  odor  of 

ocean  about  him, 
Speaking  with  this  one  and  that,  and  cramming 

letters  and  parcels 
Into  his  pockets  capacious,  and  messages  mingled 

together 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH.     421 

Into  his  narrow  brain,  till  at  last  he  was  wholly  be* 

wildered. 
Nearer  the  boat  stood  Alden,  with  one  foot  placed 

on  the  gunwale, 
One  still   firm  on  the  rock,  and  talking  at  times 

with  the  sailors, 
Seated  erect  on  the  thwarts,  all  ready  and  eager 

for  starting. 
He  too  was  eager  to  go,  and  thus  put  an  end  to  his 

anguish, 
Thinking  to  fly  from  despair,  that  swifter  than  keel 

is  or  canvas, 
Thinking  to  drown  in  the  sea  the  ghost  that  would 

rise  and  pursue  him. 
But  as  he  gazed  on  the  crowd,  he  beheld  the  form 

of  Priscilla 
Standing  dejected  among  them,  unconscious  of  all 

that  was  passing. 
Fixed  were  her  eyes  upon  his,  as  if  she  divined  his 

intention, 
Fixed  with  a  look  so  sad,  so  reproachful,  imploring, 

and  patient, 
That  with  a  sudden  revulsion  bis  heart  recoiled  from 

its  purpose, 
As  from  the  verge  of  a  crag,  where  one  step  more 

is  destruction. 

Strange  is  the  heart  of  man,  with  its  quick,  myste- 
rious instincts ! 
Strange  is  the  life  of  man,  and  fatal  or  fated  are 

moments, 
Whereupon  turn,  as  on  hinges,  the  gates  of  the  wall 

adamantine  ! 
"  Here  I  remain  1 "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  looked  at 

the  heavens  above  him, 
Thanking  the  Lord  whose  breath  had  scattered  tho 

mist  and  the  madness, 
Wherein,  blind  and  lost,  to  death  he  was  staggering 

headlong. 
M  Yonder  snow-white  cloud,  that  floats  in  the  ether 

above  me, 


422     THE  COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   8TANDISB. 

Seems  like  a  hand  that  is  pointing  and  beckoning 

over  the  ocean. 
There  is  another  hand,  that  is  not  so  spectral  and 

ghost-like, 
Holding  me,  drawing  me  back,  and  clasping  mine 

lor  protection. 
Float,  O  hand  of  cloud,  and  vanish  away  in  the 

ether ! 
Roll  thyself  up  like  a  fist,  to  threaten  and  daunt 

me ;  1  heed  not 
Either  your  warning  or  menace,  or  any  omen  of 

evil ! 
There  is  no  land  so  sacred,  no  air  so  pure  and  so 

wholesome, 
As  is  the  air  she  breathes,  and  the  soil  that  is  pressed 

by  her  footsteps. 
Here  for  her  sake  will  I  stay,  and  like  an  invisible 

presence 
Hover  around  her  for  ever,  protecting,  supporting 

her  weakness ; 
Yes !  as  my  foot  was  the  first  that  stepped  on  this 

rock  at  the  landing, 
So,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  shall  it  be  the  last  at 

the  leaving  1 " 

Meanwhile  the  Master  alert,  but  with  dignified 

air  and  important, 
Scanning  with  watchful  eye  the  tide  and  the  wind 

and  the  weather, 
Walked  about  on  the  sands ;  and  the  people  crowded 

around  him 
Saying  a  few  last  words,  and  enforcing  his  careful 

remembrance. 
Then,  taking  each   by  the   hand,  as  if  he  were 

grasping  a  tiller, 
Into  the  boat  he  sprang,  and  in  haste  shoved  off  to 

his  vessel, 
Glad  in  his  heart  to  get  rid  of  all  this  worry  and 

flurry, 


THE  COURTSHIP  OF   MILES   STAND1SH,     423 

Glad  to  be  gone  from  a  land  of  sand  and  sicknesi 

and  sorrow, 
Short  allowance  of  victual,  and  plenty  of  nothing 

but  Gospel ! 
Lost  in  the  sound  of  the  oars  was  the  last  farewell 

of  the  Pilgrims. 
O  strong  hearts  and  true !  not  one  went  back  in 

the  May  Flower  1 
No,  not  one  looked  back,  who  had  set  his  hand  to 

this  ploughing ! 

Soon  were  heard  on  board  the  shouts  and  songs 

of  the  sailors 

Heaving  the  windlass  round,  and  hoisting  the  pon- 
derous anchor. 
Then  the  yards  were  braced,  and  all  sails  set  to  the 

west-wind, 
Blowing  steady  and  strong ;  and  the  May  Flower 

sailed  from  the  harbor, 
Rounded  the  point  of  the  Gurnet,  and  leaving  far 

to  the  southward 
Island  and  cape  of  sand,  and  the  Field  of  the  First 

Encounter, 
Took  the  wind  on  her  quarter,  and  stood  for  the 

open  Atlantic, 
Bo~ne  on  the  send  of  the  sea,  and  the  swelling 

hearts  of  the  Pilgrims. 

Long  in  silence  they  watched  the  receding  sail 

of  the  vessel, 
Much  endeared  to  them  all,  as  something  living  and 

human  ; 
Then,  as  if  filled  with  the  spirit,  and  wrapt  in  a 

vision  prophetic, 
Baring  his   hoary   head,   the  excellent  Elder  of 

Plymouth 
Said,  "  Let  us  pray ! "  and  they  prayed,  and  thanked 

the  Lord  and  took  courage. 
Mournfully  sobbed  the  waves  at  the  base  of  the  rock, 

and  above  them 


424     TOE  COURTSHIP   OF    MILES   6TA.NDISH. 

Bowed  and  whispered  the  wheat  on  the  hill  of  death, 

and  their  kindred 
Seemed  to  awake  in  their  graves,  and  to  join  in  the 

prayer  that  they  uttered. 
Sun-illumined  and  white,  on  the  eastern  verge  of 

the  ocean 
Gleamed  the  departing  sail,  like  a  marble  slab  in  a 

graveyard  ; 

Buried  beneath  it  lay  for  ever  all  hope  of  escaping. 
Lo  1  as  they  turned  to  depart,  they  saw  the  form  of 

an  Indian, 
Watching  them  from  the  hill ;  but  while  they  spake 

with  each  other, 
Pointing    with   outstretched    hands,    and    saying, 

"  Look  ! "  he  had  vanished. 

So  they  returned  to  their  homes;  but  Alden  lin- 
gered a  little, 
Musing  alone  on  the  shore,  and  watching  the  wash 

of  the  billows 
Round  the  base  of  the  rock,  and  the  sparkle  and 

flash  of  the  sunshine, 
Like  the  spirit  of  God,  moving  visibly  over  the 

waters. 


VL 

PRISCIIXA. 

Tuus  for  a  while  he  stood,  and  mused  by  the  shore 

of  the  ocean, 
Thinking  of  many  things,  and  most  of  all  of  Pria- 

cilia ; 
And  as  if  thought  had  the  power  to  draw  to  itself, 

like  the  loadstone, 

Whatsoever  it  touches,  by  subtile  laws  of  its  nature, 
Lo  !  as  he  turned  to  depart,  Priscilla  was  standing 

beside  him. 

"  Are  you  so  much  offended,  you  will  not  speak 

to  me  ?  "  said  she. 
"  Am  I  so  much  to  blame,  that  yesterday,  when  you 

were  pleading 
Warmly  the  cause  of  another,  my  heart,  impulsive 

and  wayward, 
Pleaded  your  own,  and  spake  out,  forgetful  perhaps 

of  decorum  ? 
Certainly  you  can  forgive  me  for  speaking  so  frankly, 

for  saying 
What  I  ought  not  to  have  said,  yet  now  I  can  never 

unsay  it ; 
For  there  are  moments  in  life,  when  the  heart  is  so 

full  of  emotion, 
That  if  by  chance  it  be  shaken,  or  into  its  depths 

like  a  pebble 
Drops  some  careless  word,  it  overflows,  and  its 

secret, 
Spilt  on  the  ground  like  water,  can  never  be  gath 

ered  together. 
Yesterday  I  was  shocked,  when  I  heard  you  speak 

of  Miles  Staadish, 


426     THE   COUKTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDI8H. 

Praising  his  virtues,  transforming  bis  very  defects 

into  virtues, 
Praising  his  courage  and  strength,  and  even  his 

ughtiag  in  Flanders, 
As  if  by  fighting  alone  you  could  win  the  heart  of 

a  woman, 

Quite  overlooking  yourself  and  the  rest,  in  exalt- 
ing your  hero. 

Therefore  I  spake  as  I  did,  by  an  irresistible  im- 
pulse. 
You  will  forgive  me,  I  hope,  for  the  sake  of  the 

friendship  between  us, 
Which  is  too  true  and  too  sacred  to  be  so  easily 

broken ! " 
Thereupon  answered  John  Alden,  the  scholar,  the 

friend  of  Miles  Standish  : 
"  I  was  not  angry  with  you,  with  myself  alone  I 

was  angry, 
Seeing  how"  badly  T  managed  the  matter  I  had  in 

my  keeping. ' 
"  No  1 "  interrupted  the  maiden,  with  answer  prompt 

and  decisive ; 
"  No ;  you  were  angry  with  me,  for  speaking  so 

frankly  and  freely. 
It  was  wrong,  I  acknowledge  ;  for  it  is  the  fate  of  a 

woman 
Long  to  be  patient  and  silent,  to  wait  like  a  ghost 

that  is  speechless, 
Till  some  questioning  voice  dissolves  the  spell  of 

its  silence. 

Hence  is  the  inner  life  of  so  many  suffering  women 
Sunless   and  silent  and   deep,  like   subterranean 

rivers 
Running  through   caverns   of  darkness,  unheard, 

unseen,  and  unfruitful, 
Chafing  thoir  channels  of  stone,  with  endless  and 

profitless  murmurs." 
Thereupon  answered  John  Alden,  the  young  man, 

the  lover  of  women  : 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILES    STAXDISH.     42? 

*  Heaven  forbid  it,  Priscilla ;  and  truly  they  seem 
to  me  always 

More  like  the  beautiful  rivers  that  watered  the  gar- 
den of  Eden, 

More  like  the  river  Euphrates,  through  deserts  of 
Havilah  flowing, 

Filling  the  land  with  delight,  and  memories  sweet 
of  the  garden  ! " 

"  Ah,  by  these  words,  I  can  see,"  again  interrupted 
the  maiden, 

**  How  very  little  you  prize  me,  or  care  for  what  I 
am  saying. 

When  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  in  pain  and 
with  secret  misgiving, 

Frankly  I  speak  to  you,  asking  for  sympathy  only 
and  kindness, 

Straightway  you  take  up  my  words,  that  are  plain 
and  direct  and  in  earnest, 

Turn  them  away  from  their  meaning,  and  answer 
with  flattering  phrases. 

This  is  not  right,  is  not  just,  is  not  true  to  the  best 
that  is  in  you  ; 

For  I  know  and  esteem  you,  and  feel  that  your 
nature  is  noble, 

Lifting  mine  up  to  a  higher,  a  more  ethereal  level. 

Therefore  I  value  your  friendship,  and  feel  it  per- 
haps the  more  keenly 

If  you  suy  aught  that  implies  I  am  only  as  one 
among  many, 

If  you  make  use  of  those  common  and  complimen- 
tary phrases 

Most  men  think  so  fine,  in  dealing  and  speaking 
witb  women, 

But  which  women  reject  as  insipid,  if  not  as  in- 
sulting." 

Mute  and  amazed  was  Aldcn ;  and  listened  and 

looked  at  Priscilla, 

Thinking  he  never  had  seen  her  more  fair,  more 
divine  in  her  beauty. 


428    THE  COURTSHIP  OF  MILES  STAXDISH. 

Ele  who  but  yesterday  pleaded  so  glibly  the  causa 

of  another, 
Stood  there  embarrassed  and  silent,  and  seeking 

in  vain  for  an  answer. 
So  the  maiden  went  on,  and  little  divined  or  imag- 

ined 
What  was  at  work  in  his  heart,  that  made  him  so 

awkward  and  speechless. 
"  Let  us,  then,  be  what  we  are,  and  speak  what  we 

think,  and  in  all  things 
Keep  ourselves  loyal  to  truth,  and  the  sacred  pro- 

fessions of  friendship. 
It  is  no  secret  I  tell  you,  nor  am  I  ashamed  to  de- 

clare it  : 
I  have  liked  to  be  with  you,  to  see  you,  to  speak 

with  you  always. 
So  I  was  hurt  at  your  words,  and  a  little  affronted 

to  hear  you 
Urge  me  to  marry  your  friend,  though  he  were  the 

Captain  Miles  Standish. 
For  I  must  tell  you  the  truth  :  much  more  to  me  ia 

your  friendship 
Than  all  the  love  he  could  give,  were  he  twice  the 

hero  you  think  him." 
Then  she   extended   her    hand,    and  Alden,  who 


eagerly  grasped  it, 
ll  the  wound 


Felt  all  the  wounds  in  his  heart,  that  were  aching 

and  bleeding  so  sorely, 
Ilealed  by  the  touch  of  that  hand,  and  he  said, 

with  a  voice  full  of  feeling: 
"Yes,  we   must  ever  be   friends;  and  of  all  who 

offer  you  friendship 
Let  me  be  ever  the  first,  the  truest,  the  nearest  and 

dearest  !  " 

Casting  a  farewell  look  at  the  glimmering  sail  of 

the  May  Flower, 

Distant,  but  still  in   sight,  and  sinking  below  the 
horizon, 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH.     42D 

Homeward  together  they  walked,  with  a  strange, 
indefinite  feeling, 

That  all  the  rest  had  departed  and  left  them  alone 
in  the  desert. 

But,  as  they  weht  through  the  fields  in  the  blessing 
and  smile  of  the  sunshine, 

Lighter  grew  their  hearts,  and  Priscilla  said  very 
archly : 

w  Now  that  our  terrible  Captain  has  gone  in  pur- 
suit of  the  Indians, 

Where  he  is  happier  far  than  he  would  be  com- 
manding a  household, 

You  may  speak  boldly,  and  tell  me  of  all  that  hap- 
pened between  you, 

When  you  returned  last  night,  and  said  how  un- 
grateful you  found  me." 

Thereupon  answered  John  Alden,  and  told  her 
the  whole  of  the  story,  — 

Told  her  his  own  despair,  and  the  direful  wrath  of 
Miles  Standish. 

Whereat  the  maiden  smiled,  and  said  between 
laughing  and  earnest, 

"  He  is  a  little  chimney,  and  heated  hot  in  a  mo- 
ment ! " 

But  as  he  gently  rebuked  her,  and  told  her  how 
much  he  had  suffered,  — 

How  he  had  even  determined  to  sail  that  day  in 
the  May  Flower, 

And  had  remained  for  her  sake,  on  hearing  the 
dangers  that  threatened,  — 

All  her  manner  was  changed,  and  she  said  with  a 
faltering  accent, 

11  Truly  I  thank  you  for  this  :  how  good  you  have 
been  to  me  always  !  " 

Thus,  as  a  pilgrim  devout,  who  toward  Jerusa- 
lem journeys, 

Taking  three  steps  in  advance,  and  one  reluctantly 
backward, 


430     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES    STANDISH. 

Urged  by  importunate  zeal,  and  withheld  by  pangs 
of  contrition  ; 

Slowly  but  steadily  onward,  receding  yet  ever  ad- 
vancing, 

Journeyed  this  Puritan  youth  to  the  Holy  Land  of 
his  longings, 

Urged  by  the  fervor  of  love,  and  withheld  by  r»- 
2lul  misgivings. 


VII. 

THF   MARCH   OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

MEANWHILE    the   stalwart    Miles   Standish    wai 

marching  steadily  northward, 
Winding  through  forest  and  swamp,  and  along  the 

trend  of  the  sea-shore, 
All  day  long,  with  hardly  a  halt,  the  fire  of  his 

anger 
Burning  and  crackling  within,  and  the  sulphurous 

odor  of  powder 
Seeming  more  sweet  to  his  nostrils  than  all  the 

scents  of  the  forest. 
Silent  and  moody  he  went,  and  much  he  revolved 

his  discomfort ; 
He  who  was  used  to  success,  and  to  easy  victories 

always, 
Thus  to  be  flouted,  rejected,  and  laughed  to  scorn 

by  a  maiden 
Thus  to  be  mocked  and  betrayed  by  the  friend 

whom  most  he  had  trusted ! 
Ah !  'twas  too  much  to  be  borne,  and  he  fretted 

and  chafed  in  his  armor ! 

"  I  alone  am  to  blame,"  he  muttered,  "  for  mine 

was  the  folly. 
What  has  a  rough  old   soldier,  grown   grim  and 

gray  in  the  harness, 
Used  to  the   camp  and  its  ways,  to  do  with  the 

wooing  of  maidens  ? 
T  was  but  a  dream,  —  let  it  pass,  —  let  it  vanish 

like  so  many  others  1 
What  I  thought  was  a  (lower,  is  only  a  weed,  and 

is  worthless; 


482     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

Out  of  my  heart  will  I  pluck  it,  and  throw  it  away, 
and  henceforward 

Be  but  a  fighter  of  battles,  a  lover  and  wooer  of 
dangers  !  " 

Thus  he  revolved  in  his  mind  his  sorry  defeat  and 
discomfort, 

While  he  was  marching  by  day  or  lying  at  night  in 
the  forest, 

Looking  up  at  the  trees,  and  the  constellations  be- 
yond them. 

After  a  three  days'  march  he  came  to  an  Indian 
encampment 

Pitched  on  the  edge  of  a  meadow,  between  the  sea 
and  the  forest ; 

Women  at  work  by  the  tents,  and  the  warriors, 
horrid  with  war-paint, 

Seated  about  a  fire,  and  smoking  and  talking  to- 
gether ; 

Who,  when  they  saw  from  afar  the  sudden  ap- 
proach of  the  white  men, 

Saw  the  flash  of  the  sun  on  breastplate  and  sabre 
and  musket, 

Straightway  leaped  to  their  feet,  and  two,  from 
among  them  advancing, 

Came  to  parley  with  Standish,  and  offer  him  furs 
as  a  present ; 

Friendship  was  in  their  looks,  but  in  their  hearts 
there  was  hatred. 

Braves  of  the  tribe  were  these,  and  brothers  gigan- 
tic in  stature, 

Huge  as  Goliath  of  Gath,  or  the  terrible  Og,  king 
of  Bashan ; 

One  was  Pecksuot  named,  and  the  other  was  called 
Wattawamat. 

Hound  their  necks  were  suspended  their  knives  in 
scabbards  of  wampum, 

Two-edged,  trenchant  knives,  with  points  as  sharp 
an  a  needle. 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STAXD1SH.     433 

Other  arms  had  they  none,  for  they  were  cunning 

and  crafty. 
"  Welcome,  English  ! "   they   said,  —  these   words 

they  had  learned  from  the  traders 
Touching   at  times   on    the   coast,   to  barter  and 

chaffer  for  peltries. 
Then  in  their  native  tongue  they  began  to  parley 

with  Standish, 
Through  his  guide  and  interpreter,  Hobomok,  friend 

of  the  white  man, 
Begging  for  blankets  and  knives,  but  mostly  for 

muskets  and  powder, 
Kept  by  the  white  man,  they  said,  concealed,  with 

the  plague,  in  his  cellars, 
Ready  to  be  let  loose,  and  destroy  his  brother  the 

red  man ! 
But  when  Standish  refused,  and  said  he  would  give 

them  the  Bible, 
Suddenly  changing  their  tone,  they  began  to  boast 

and  to  bluster. 
Then  Wattawamat  advanced  with  a  stride  in  front 

of  the  other, 
And,  with  a  lofty  demeanor,  thus  vauntingly  spake 

to  the  Captain : 
"  Now  Wattawamat  can  see,  by  the  fiery  eyes  of 

the  Captain, 
Angry  is  he  in  his  heart ;  but  the  heart  of  the  brave 

Wattawamat 
Is  not  afraid  at  the  sight     He  was  not  born  of  a 

woman, 
But  on  a  mountain,  at  night,  from   an  oak-tree 

riven  by  lightning, 
Forth  he  sprang  at  a  bound,  with  all  his  weapons 

about  him, 
Shouting,   'Who  is  there  here  to  fight  with  the 

brave  Wattawamat?'" 
Then  he  unsheathed  his  knife,  and,  whetting  the 

blade  on  his  left  hand, 
VOL.  it.  28 


434     THE   COURTSHIP  OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

Held  it  aloft  and  displayed  a  woman's  face  on  the 

handle, 
Saying,  with  bitter  expression  and  look  of  sinister 

meaning  : 
"  I  have  another  at  home,  with  the  face  of  a  man 

on  the  handle  ; 
By  and  by  they  shall  marry;   and  there  will  be 

plenty  of  children  !  " 

Then  stood  Pecksuot  forth,  self-vaunting,  insult- 

ing  Miles  Standish  : 
While  with  his  fingers  he  patted  the  knife  that 

hung  at  his  bosom, 
Drawing  it  half  from  its  sheath,  and  plunging  it 

back,  as  he  muttered, 
"  By  and  by  it  shall  see  ;  it  shall  eat  ;  ah,  ha  I  but 

shall  speak  not  ! 
This  is  the  mighty  Captain  the  white  men  have 

sent  to  destroy  us  ! 
He  is  a  little  man  ;  let  him  go  and  work  with  the 

women  1  " 

Meanwhile  Standish   had   noted  the  faces  and 

figures  of  Indians 
Peeping  and  creeping  about  from  bush  to  tree  in 

the  forest, 
Feigning  to  look  for  game,  with  arrows  set  on  their 


of  ttjir  ambush. 
Bet  undaunted    he    stood,    and    dissembled    and 

treated  them  smoothly  ; 
So  the  old  chronicles  say,  that  were  writ  in  the 

days  of  the  fathers. 
But  when  he  heard  their  defiance,  the  boast,  the 

taunt,  and  the  msutt, 
All  the  hot  blood  of  his  race,  of  Sir  Hugh  and  of 

Thurston  de  Standish, 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILES   STANDISH.     435 

Boiled  and  beat  in  his  heart,  and  swelled  in  the 

veins  of  his  temples. 
Headlong  he  leaped  on  the  boaster,  and,  snatching 

his  knife  from  its  scabbard, 
Plunged  it  into  his  heart,  and,  reeling  backward, 

the  savage 

Fell  with  his  face  to  the  sky,  and  a  fiendlike  fierce- 
ness upon  it. 
Straight  there  arose  from  the  forest  the  awful  sound 

of  the  war-whoop, 
And,  like  a  flurry  of  snow  on  the  whistling  wind  of 

December, 

Swift  and  sudden  and  keen  came  a  flight  of  feath- 
ery arrows. 
Then  came  a  cloud  of  smoke,  and  out  of  the  cloud 

came  the  lightning, 
Out  of  the  lightning  thunder ;  and  death  unseen 

ran  before  it. 
Frightened  the  savages  fled  for  shelter  in  swamp 

and  in  thicket, 
Hotly  pursued  and  beset;   but  their  sachem,  the 

brave  Wattawamat, 
Fled  not;   he  was  dead.     Unswerving  and  swift 

had  a  bullet 
Passed  through  his  brain,  and  he  fell  with  both 

hands  clutching  the  greensward, 
Seeming  in  death  to  hold  back  from  his  foe  the 

laud  of  his  fathers. 

There  on  the  flowers  of  the  meadow  the  warriors 

lay,  and  above  them, 
Silent,  with  folded  arms,  stood  Hobomok,  friend  of 

the  white  man. 
Smiling  at  length  he  exclaimed   to   the   stalwart 

Captain  of  Plymouth : 
u  Pecksuot  bragged  very  loud,  of  his  courage,  hia 

strength,  and  his  stature,  — 
Mocked  the  great  Captain,  and  called  him  a  little 

man  ;  but  I  see  now 


436     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

Big  enough  have  you  been  to  lay  him  specchles* 
bel'oi -<j  you  1 " 

Thus  the  first  battle  was  fought  and  won  by  the 
stalwart  Miles  Standish. 

When  the  tidings  thereof  were  brought  to  the  vil- 
lage of  Plymouth, 

And  as  a  trophy  of  war  the  head  of  the  brave  Wat- 
tawamat 

Scowled  from  the  roof  of  the  fort,  which  at  once 
was  a  church  and  a  fortress. 

All  who  beheld  it  rejoiced,  and  praised  the  Lord, 
and  took  courage. 

Only  Priscilla  averted  her  face  from  this  spectre 
of  terror. 

Thanking  God  in  her  heart  that  she  had  not  mar- 
ried Miles  Standish ; 

Shrinking,  fearing  almost,  lest,  coming  home  from 
his  battles, 

He  should  lay  claim  to  her  hand,  as  the  prize  and 
reward  of  his  valor. 


vm. 

1HE   SPINNING- WHKEL. 

MONTH  after  month  passed  away,  and  in  Autumn 

the  ships  of  the  merchants 
Came  with  kindred  and  friends,  with  cattle  and  corn 

for  the  Pilgrim!,. 
All  ir  the  village  was  peace ;  the  men  were  intent 

on  their  labors, 
Busy  with  hewing  and  building,  with  garden-plot 

and  with  merestead, 
Busy  with  breaking  the  glebe,  and  mowing  the  grass 

in  the  meadows, 
Searching  the  sea  for  its  fish,  and  hunting  the  deer 

in  the  forest. 
All  in  the  village  was  peace ;  but  at  times  the  rumor 

of  warfare 
Filled  the  air  with  alarm,  and  the  apprehension  of 

danger. 
Bravely  the  stalwart  Miles  Standish  was  scouring 

the  land  with  his  forces, 
Waxing  valiant  in  fight  and  defeating  the  alien. 

armies, 
Till  his  name  had  become  a  sound  of  fear  to  the 

nations. 
Anger  was  still  in  his  heart,  but  at  times  the  remorse 

and  contrition 
Which  in  all  noble  natures  succeed  the  passionate 

outbreak, 
Came  like  a  rising  tide,  that  encounters  the  rush  of 

a  river, 
Staying  its  current  awhile,  but  making  it  bitter  and 

orackish. 

Meanwhile  Alien  at  home  had  built  him  a  new 
habitation, 


438     THE   COURTSHIP   OK   MILES   8TANDI8H. 

Solid,  substantial,  of  timber  rough-hewn  from  the 

firs  of  the  forest 
Wooden-barred  was  the  door,  and  the  roof  was 

covered  with  rushes ; 
Latticed  the  windows  were,  and  the  window-panel 

were  of  paper, 
Oiled  to  admit  the  light,  while  wind  and  rain  were 

excluded. 
There  too  he  dug  a  well,  and  around  it  planted  an 

orchard : 
Still  may  be  seen  to  this  day  some  trace  of  the  well 

and  the  orchard. 
Close  to  the  house  was  the  stall,  where,  safe  and 

secure  from  annoyance, 
Raghorn,  the  snow-white  bull,  that  had  fallen  to 

Alden's  allotment 

In  the  division  of  cattle,  might  ruminate  in  the  night- 
time 
Over  the  pastures  he  cropped,  made  fragrant  by 

sweet  pennyroyal. 

Oft  when  his  labor  was  finished,  with  eager  feet 

would  the  dreamer 
Follow  the  pathway  that  ran  through  the  woods  to 

the  house  of  Priscilla, 
Led  by  illusions  romantic  and  subtile  deceptions  of 

fancy, 

Pleasure  disguised  as  duty,  and  love  in  the  sem- 
blance of  friendship. 
Ever  of  her  he  thought,  when  he  fashioned  the 

walls  of  his  dwelling  ; 
Ever  of  her  he  thought,  when  he  delved  in  the 

soil  of  his  garden  ; 
Ever  of  her  he  thought,  when  he  read  in  hia  Bible 

on  Sunday 
Praise  of  the  virtuous  woman,  as  she  is  described 

in  the  Proverbs, — 
How  the  heart  of  her  husbnnd  doth  safely  trust  iu 

her  always, 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISU.     439 

ilow  all  the  days  of  her  life  she  will  do  him  good, 

and  not  evil, 
How  she  seeketh  the  wool  and  the  flax  and  worketh 

with  gladness, 
How  she  layeth  her  hand  to  the  spindle  and  holdeth 

the  distaff, 
How  she  is  not  afraid  of  the  snow  for  herself  or  her 

household, 
Knowing  her  household  are  clothed  with  the  scarlet 

cloth  of  her  weaving  ! 

So  as  she  sat  at  her  wheel  one  afternoon  in  the 

Autumn, 
Alden,  who  opposite   sat,  and  was  watching  her 

dexterous  fingers, 
As  if  the  thread  she  was  spinning  were  that  of  his 

life  and  his  fortune, 
After  a  pause  in  their  talk,  thus  spake  to  the  sound 

of  the  spindle. 

"  Truly,  Priscilla,"  he  said,  "  when  I  see  you  spin- 
ning and  spinning, 
Never  idle  a  moment,  but  thrifty  and  thoughtful  of 

others, 
Suddenly  you  are  transformed,  are  visibly  changed 

in  a  moment ; 
You  are  no  longer  Priscilla,  but  Bertha  the  Beautiful 

Spinner." 
Here  the  light  foot  on  the  treadle  grew  swifter  *nd 

swifter ;  the  spindle 
Uttered  an  angry  snarl,  and  the  thread  snapped 

short  in  her  fingers ; 

While  the  impetuous  speaker,  not  heeding  the  mis- 
chief, continued : 
u  You  are  the  beautiful  Bertha,  the  spinner,  the 

queen  of  Helvetia ; 
She  whose  story  I  read  at  a  stall  in  the  streets  of 

Southampton, 
Who,  as  she  rode  on  her  palfrey,  o'er  valley  and 

meadow  and  mountain, 


440     THE   COURTSHIP   OK   MILES   8TANDI8H. 

Ever  was  spinning  her  thread  from  a  distaff  fixed 

to  her  saddle. 
She  was  so  thrifty  and  good,  that  her  name  passed 

into  a  proverb. 

So  shall  it  be  with  your  own,  when  the  spinning- 
wheel  shall  no  longer 

Hum  iu  the  house  of  the  farmer,  and  fill  its  cham- 
bers with  music. 
Then  shall  the  mothers,  reproving,  relate  how  it  wa» 

in  their  childhood, 
Praising  the  good  old  times,  and  the  days  of  Pris- 

cilla  the  spinner  !" 
Straight  uprose  from  her  wheel  the  beautiful  Puritan 

maiden, 
Pleased  with  the  praise  of  her  thrift  from  him  whose 

praise  was  the  sweetest, 
Drew  from  the  reel  on  the  table  a  snowy  skein  of 

her  spinning, 
Thus  making  answer,  meanwhile,  to  the  flattering 

phrases  of  Alden : 
"  Come,  you  must  not  be  idle ;  if  I  am  a  pattern  for 

housewives, 
Show  yourself  equally  worthy  of  being  the  model 

of  husbands. 
Hold  this  skein  on  your  hands,  while  I  wind  it, 

ready  for  knitting ; 
Then  who  knows  but  hereafter,  when  fashions  have 

changed  and  the  manners, 
Fathers  may  talk  to  their  sons  of  the  good  old  time* 

of  John  Alden  !  " 
Thus,  with  a  jest  and  a  laugh,  the  skein   on  hia 

hands  she  adjusted, 
He  sitting  awkwardly  there,  with  his  arms  extended 

before  him, 
She  standing  graceful,  erect,  and  winding  the  thread 

from  his  fingers, 
Sometimes  chiding  a  little   his  clumsy  manner  of 

holding, 
Sometimes  touching  his  hands,  as  she  disentangled 

expertly 


THE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILKS   STANDISH.     441 

Twist  or  knot  in  the  yarn,  unawares — for  how  could 

she  help  it?— 
Sending  electrical  thrills  through  every  nerve  in  his 

Lo !  in  the  midst  of  this  scene,  a  breathless  mes- 
senger entered, 
Bringing  in  hurry  and  heat  the  terrible  news  from 

the  village. 
Yes ;  Miles  Standish  was  dead  !  —  an  Indian  had 

brought  them  the  tidings, — 
Slain  by  a  poisoned  arrow,  shot  down  in  the  front 

of  the  battle, 
Into  an  ambush  beguiled,  cut  off  with  the  whole  of 

his  forces ; 
All  the  town  would  be  burned,  and  all  the  people 

be  murdered ! 
Such  were  the  tidings  of  evil  that  burst  on  the 

hearts  of  the  hearers. 

Silent  and  statue-like  stood  Priscilla,  her  face  look- 
ing backward 
Still  at  the  face  of  the  speaker,  her  arms  uplifted 

in  horror ; 
But  John  Alden,  upstarting,  as  if  the  barb  of  the 

arrow 
Tiercing  the  heart  of  his  friend  had  struck  his  own, 

and  had  sundered 
Once  and  for  ever  the  bonds  that  held  him  bound 

as  a  captive, 
Wild  with  excess  of  sensation,  the  awful  delight  of 

his  freedom, 
Mingled  with  pain  and  regret,  unconscious  of  what 

he  was  doing, 
Clasped,  almost  with  a  groan,  the  motionless  form. 

of  Priscilla, 
Pressing  her  close  to  his  heart,  as  for  ever  his  own, 

and  exclaiming : 
u  Those  whom  the  Lord  hath  united,  let  no  man 

put  them  asunder  1 " 


442   THE  counrsnip  OF  MILES  STANDISH. 

Even  as  rivulets  twain,  from  distant  and  sepa- 
rate sources, 
Seeing  each  other  afar,  as  they  leap  from  the  rocks, 

and  pursuing 
Each  one  its  devious  path,  but  drawing  nearer  and 

nearer, 
Rush  together  at  last,  at  their  trysting-place  in  the 

forest ; 
60  these  lives  that  had  run  thus  far  in  separate 

channels, 
Coming  in  sight  of  each  other,  then  swerving  and 

flowing  asunder, 
Parted  by  barriers  strong,  but  drawing  nearer  and 

nearer, 
Bushed  together  at  last,  and  one  was  lost  in  the 

other. 


IX. 

THE   WEDDING-DAY. 

FORTE  from  the  curtain  of  clouds,  from  the  tent 
of  purple  and  scarlet, 

Issued  the  sun,  the  great  High-Priest,  in  his  gar- 
ments resplendent. 

Holiness  unto  the  Lord,  in  letters  of  light,  on  his 
forehead, 

Hound  the  hem  of  his  robe  the  golden  bells  and 
pomegranates. 

Blessing  the  world  he  came,  and  the  bars  of  vapor 
beneath  him 

Gleamed  like  a  grate  of  brass,  and  the  sea  at  his 
feet  was  a  laver  1 

This  was  the  wedding  morn  of  Priscilla  the  Puri- 
tan maiden. 
Friends  were  assembled  together;  the  Elder  and 

Magistrate  also 
Graced  the  scene  with  their  presence,  and  stood 

like  the  Law  and  the  Gospel, 
One  with  the  sanction  of  earth  and  one  with  the 

blessing  of  heaven. 
Simple  and  brief  was  the  wedding,  as  that  of  Ruth 

and  of  Boaz. 
Softly  the  youth  and  the  maiden  repeated  the  words 

of  betrothal, 
Taking  each  other  for  husband   and  wife  in  the 

Magistrate's  presence, 
After  the  Puritan  way,  and  the  laudable  custom  of 

Holland. 
Fervently  then,  and  devoutly,  the  excellent  Elder 

of  Plymouth 


444     THE   COURTSHIP   OF    MILES   STANDISH. 

Prayed  for  the  hearth  and  the  home,  that  wer« 
founded  that  day  in  affection, 

Speaking  of  life  and  of  death,  and  imploring  di- 
vine benedictions. 

Lo  1  when  the  service  was  ended,  a  form  ap» 
peared  on  the  threshold, 

Clad  in  armor  of  steel,  a  sombre  and  sorrowful  fig- 
ure ! 

Why  does  the  bridegroom  start  and  stare  at  the 
strange  apparition  ? 

Why  does  the  bride  turn  pale,  and  hide  her  face  on 
his  shoulder  ? 

Is  it  a  phantom  of  air,  —  a  bodiless,  spectral  illu- 
sion ? 

Is  it  a  ghost  from  the  grave,  that  has  come  to  forbid 
the  betrothal  ? 

Long  had  it  stood  there  unseen,  a  guest  uninvited, 
un  welcomed ; 

Over  its  clouded  eyes  there  had  passed  at  times  an 
expression 

Softening  the  gloom  and  revealing  the  warm  heart 
hidden  beneath  them, 

As  when  across  the  sky  the  driving  rack  of  the  rain- 
cloud 

Grows  for  a  moment  thin,  and  betrays  the  sun  by 
its  brightness. 

Once  it  had  lifted  its  hand,  and  moved  its  lips,  but 
was  silent, 

As  if  an  iron  will  had  mastered  the  fleeting  inten- 
tion. 

But  when  were  ended  the  ti-oth  and  the  prayer 
and  the  last  benediction, 

Into  the  room  it  strode,  and  the  people  beheld  with 
amazement 

Bodily  there  in  his  armor  Miles  Standish,  the  Cap- 
tain of  Plymouth  ! 

Grasping  the  bridegroom's  hand,  he  said  with  emo- 
tion, "  Forgive  me  1 


TUB   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH.     445 

J  Lave  been  angry  and  hurt,  —  too  long  have  1 
cherished  the  feeling ; 

I  have  been  cruel  and  hard,  but  now,  thank  God ' 
it  is  ended. 

Mine  is  the  same  hot  blood  that  leaped  in  the  veins 
of  Hugh  Blandish, 

Sensitive,  swift  to  resent,  but  as  swift  in  atoning  for 
error. 

Never  so  much  as  now  was  Miles  Standish  the 
friend  of  John  Alden." 

Thereupon  answered  the  bridegroom  :  "  Let  all  be 
forgotten  between  us,  — 

All  save  the  dear,  old  friendship,  and  that  shall 
grow  older  and  dearer  1 " 

Then  the  Captain  advanced,  and,  bowing,  saluted 
Priscilla, 

Gravely,  and  after  the  manner  of  old-fashioned 
gentry  in  England, 

Something  of  camp  and  of  court,  of  town  and  of 
country,  commingled, 

Wishing  her  joy  of  her  wedding,  and  loudly  laud- 
ing her  husband. 

Then  he  said  with  a  smile  :  "  I  should  have  remem- 
bered the  adage,  — 

If  you  would  be  well  served,  you  must  serve  your- 
self;  and  moreover, 

No  man  can  gather  cherries  in  Kent  at  the  season 
of  Christmas ! " 

Great  was  the  people's  amazement,  and  greater 

yet  their  rejoicing, 
Thus  to  behold  once  more  the  sun-burnt  face  of 

their  Captain, 
Whom  they  had  mourned  as  dead ;  and  they  gathered 

and  crowded  about  him, 
Eager  to  see  him  and  hear  him,  forgetful  of  bride 

and  of  bridegroom, 
Questioning,  answering,  laughing,  and  each  inte 

rupting  the  other, 


446     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   S  t  AXDISH. 

Till  the  good  Captain  declared,  being  quite  over- 
powered  and  bewildered, 

He  had  rather  by  far  break  into  an  Indian  encamp- 
ment, 

Than  come  again  to  a  wedding  to  which  he  had  not 
been  invited. 

Meanwhile  the  bridegroom  went  forth  and  stood 

with  the  bride  at  the  doorway, 
Breathing  the  perfumed  air  of  that  warm  and  beau- 
tiful morning. 
Touched  with  autumnal  tints,  but  lonely  and  sad  in 

the  sunshine, 
Lay  extended  before  them  the  land  of  toil  and 

privation ; 
There  were  the  graves  of  the  dead,  and  the  barreii 

waste  of  the  sea-shore, 
There  the  familiar  fields,  the  groves  of  pine,  and 

the  meadows ; 
But  to  their  eyes  transfigured,  it  seemed  as  the 

Garden  of  Eden, 
Filled  with  the  presence  of  God,  whose  voice  waa 

the  sound  of  the  ocean. 

Soon  was  their  vision  disturbed  by  the  noise  and 

stir  of  departure, 
Friends  coming  forth  from  the  house,  and  impatient 

of  longer  delaying, 
Each  with  his  plan  for  the  day,  and  the  work  that 

was  left  uncompleted. 
Then  from  a  stall  near  at  hand,  amid  exclamations 

of  wonder, 
Alden  the  thoughtful,  the  careful,  so  happy,  so  proud 

of  Prise-ilia, 
Brought  out  his  snow-white  bull,  obeying  the  hand 

of  its  master, 
Led  by  a  cord  that  was  tied  to  an  iron  ring  in  ita 

nostrils, 


THE   COURTSmr   OF   MILES    STANDISH.     447 

Covered  with  crimson  cloth,  and  a  cushion  placed 

for  a  saddle. 
She  should  not  walk,  he  said,  through  the  dust  and 

heat  of  the  noonday ; 
Nay,  she  should  ride  like  a  queen,  not  plod  along 

like  a  peasant. 
Somewhat  alarmed  at  first,  but  reassured  by  the 

others, 
Placing  her  hand  on  the  cushion,  her  foot  in  the 

hand  of  her  husband, 
Gayly,  with  joyous  laugh,  Priscilla  mounted  her 

palfrey. 
M  Nothing  is  wanting  now,"  he  said  with  a  smile, 

"  but  the  distaff; 
Then  you  would  be  in  truth  my  queen,  my  beautiful 

Bertha!" 

Onward  the  bridal  procession  now  moved  to  their 

new  habitation, 
Happy  husband  and  wife,  and  friends  conversing 

together. 
Pleasantly  murmured  the  brook,  as  they  crossed 

the  ford  in  the  forest, 
Pleased  with  the  image  that  passed,  like  a  dream 

of  love  through  its  bosom, 
Tremulous,  floating  in  air,  o'er  the  depths  of  the 

azure  abysses. 

Down  through  the  golden  leaves  the  sun  was  pour- 
ing his  splendors, 
Gleaming  on  purple  grapes,  that,  from  branches 

above  them  suspended, 
Mingled  their  odorous  breath  with  the  balm  of  th« 

pine  and  the  fir-tree, 
Wild  and  sweet  as  the  clusters  that  grew  in  the 

valley  of  Eshcol. 
Like  a  picture  it  seemed  of  the  primitive,  pastoral 

ages, 
Fresh  with  the  youth  of  the  world,  and  recalling 

Rebecca  and  Isaac. 


448     THE   COURTSHIP   OF   MILES   STANDISH. 

Old  anil  yet  ever  new,  and  simple  and  beautiful 

always, 
Love  immortal  and  young  in  the  endless  succession 

of  lovers. 
So  through  the  Plymouth  woods  passed  onward  the 

bridal  procession. 


NOTES 


NOTES. 

THB  GOLDEM  LIWKXD.  The  old  Leyenda  Aurca,  or 
Goldeu  Legend,  was  originally  written  m  Latin,  in  the 
thirteenth  century,  by  Jacobus  de  Voragine,  a  Dominican 
friar,  wbo  afterwards  became  Archbishop  of  Genoa,  and 
died  in  1292. 

He  called  his  book  simply  "  Legends  of  the  Saints." 
The  epithet  of  Golden  was  given  it  by  his  admirers;  for, 
as  Wynkm  de  Worde  says,  "  Like  as  passeth  gold  in 
value  "all  other  metals,  so  this  Legend  exceedeth  all  other 
books."  But  Edward  Leigh,  in  much  distress  of  mind, 
calls  it  "  a  book  written  by  a  man  of  a  leaden  heart  for 
the  basenesse  of  the  errours,  that  are  without  wit  or  rea- 
son, and  of  a  brazen  forehead  for  his  impudent  boldnesse 
in  reporting  things  so  fabulous  and  incredible." 

This  work,  the  great  text  book  of  the  legendary  lore  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  was  translated  into  French  in  the  four- 
teenth century  by  Jean  de  Vignay,  and  in  the  fifteenth 
into  English  "by  William  Caxton.  It  has  lately  been 
made  more  accessible  by  a  new  French  translation :  La 
Legende  Dorce,  traduite  du  Latin,  rtar  J/.  G.  B  Paris, 
1850.  There  is  a  copy  of  the  original,  with  the  Getta 
Imgobardonu*  appended,  in  the  Harvard  College  Library, 
Cambridge,  printed  at  Strasburg,  14%.  The  title-page  "is 
wanting;  and  the  volume  begins  w  tli  the  Tabula  Leyen- 
dortun. 

I  have  called  this  poem  the  Golden  Legend,  because  the 
»tory  upon  which  it  is  founded  seems  tome  to  surpass  all 
other  legends  in  beauty  and  significance.  It  exhibits. 
amid  the  corruptions  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  virtue  of 
disintere*tedne>s  and  self-sacrifice,  and  the  power  of 
Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity,  sufficient  for  all  the  exigencies 
of  life  and  death.  The  story  is  told,  and  perhaps  invented, 
by  Uamnuuu  von  dsr  Auo,  a  Minnesinger  of  the  twelfth 


452  KOTEft. 

century.  The  original  may  be  fonnd  In  Maflath's  AK 
deutschf  Gt'lichte,  with  a  modern  Gennnn  version.  There 
is  another  in  Marbach's  Volksl/iicher,  No.  32. 

Page  82.     for  the»e  bell*  have  been  anointed, 
Anil  bnjttiztil  with  holy  water! 

The  Consecration  and  Baptism  of  Bells  is  one  of  live 
most  curious  ceremonies  of  tlio  church  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  The  Council  of  Cologne  ordained  as  follows: — 

"  Let  the  bells  be  blessed,  as  the  trumpets  of  the  Church 
militant,  by  which  the  people  are  assembled  to  hear  tne 
word  of  God;  the  clergy  to  announce  his  mercy  by  day. 
and  his  truth  in  their  nocturnal  vigils:  that  bv  their  sound 
the  faithful  may  be  invited  to  prayers,  and  tfiat  the  spirit 
of  devotion  in  them  may  be  increased.  The  fathers  have 
also  maintained  that  demons,  affrighted  by  the  sound  of 
bells  calling  Christians  to  prayers,  would  flee  away;  and 
•when  they  fled,  the  persons  of  the  faithful  would  be 
secure:  that  the  destruction  of  lightning*  and  whirlwinds 
would  be  averted,  and  the  spirits  of  the  storm  de- 
feated."— Edinburgh  Encydnpadia,  Art.  Bell*.  See  also 
Scheible's  Kloster,  VI.  770. 

Page  115.     It  is  tiie  malediction  of  Eve  ! 

"  Nee  esses  plus  quam  femina,  qure  mine  etiara  viros 
transcendis,  et  quae  maledictionem  Kvse  in  benedictionem 
vertisti  .Marias."— Epistola  Abvelardi  lltloime. 

Page  139.     To  come  back  to  my  text ! 

In  giving  this  sermon  of  Friar  Cuthbert  as  a  specimen 
of  the  Kisiis  Paschales,  or  street-preaching  of  the  monks 
at  Easter.  I  have  exaggerated  nothing.  This  very  an- 
ecdote, offensive  as  it  is,  comes  from  a  discourse  of  r'ather 
Barletta,  a  Dominican  friar  of  the  fifteenth  century,  whose 
fame  as  a  popular  preacher  was  so  great,  that  it  gave  rise 
to  the  proverb, 

Neseit  predieart 
Qui  netcit  JSarUttart. 

"  Among  the  abuses  introduced  in  this  century,"  Bars 
Tiraboscln.  "  was  that  of  exciting  from  the  pulpit  the 
laughter  of  the  hearers:  as  if  that  were  the  same  thing 
as  converting  them.  We  have  examples  of  this,  not  only 
in  Italy,  but  also  in  France,  where  the  sermons  of  Meuot 
and  Jlaillard,  and  of  others,  who  would  make  a  better 
appearance  on  the  stage  than  in  the  pulpit,  are  still  cele- 
brated for  such  follies." 

If  the  reader  is  curious  to  see  how  far  the  freedom  of 
•peecli  was  carried  in  these  popular  sermons,  he  is  re- 
'•rred  to  Scheible's  Klotter,  Vol.  1.,  where  he  will  find 


NOTES.  453 

extracts  from  Abraham  a  Sancta  Clara  Sebastian  Frankf 
and  others;  and  in  particular  an  anonymous  discourse 
called  Der  Gravel  der  Venciistung,  The  Abomination  of 
Desolation,  preached  at  Ottakring,  a  village  west  of  Vi- 
enna, November  25,  1782,  in  which  the  license  of  language 
is  carried  to  its  utmost  limit. 

See  also  PrfaKcatoriaiu^  oil  Revelations  sinrjtdieres  et 
amusantes  sur  les  Predicatettrs ;  jxir  G.  P.  PUilomnctte. 
(Menin.)  This  work  contains  extracts  from  the  popular 
sermons  of  St.  Vincent  Ferrier,  Barletta,  Menot,  Muillard, 
Marini,  Kaulin,  Valiadier,  De  Besse,  Camus,  Pero  Andre", 
Bening,  and  the  most  eloquent  of  all,  Jacques  Brydaine. 

My  authority  for  the  spiritual  interpretation  of  bell- 
ringing,  which  "follows,  is  Durandus,  Ration.  Divin.  OJfic., 
Lib.  1.  cap.  4. 

Pago  143.    THE  NATIVITY:  a  Miracle-Play. 

A  singular  chapter  in  the  history  of  the  Middle  Ages  is 
that  which  gives  account  of  the  early  Christian  Drama, 
the  Mysteries,  Moralities,  and  Miracle-Plays,  which  were 
at  first  performed  in  churches,  and  afte'rwar-Js  in  the 


streets,  on  fixed  or  movable  stages.  For  the  most  part, 
the  Mysteries  were  founded  on  the  historic  portions  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  and  the  Miracle-Plays  on 


the  lives  of  Saints;  a  distinction  not  alwavs  observed, 
however,  for  in  Mr.  Wright's  "Early  Mysteries  and  other 
Latin  Poems  of  the  Twelfth  and  thirteenth  Centuries," 
the  Resurrection  of  La/arus  is  called  a  Miracle,  and  not 
a  Mystery.  The  Moralities  were  plays,  in  which  the  Vir- 
tues and  Vices  were  personified. 

The  earliest  religious  play,  which  has  been  preserved, 
is  the  OtrUlos  Paschon  of  Gregory  Nazianzen,  written  in 
Greek,  in  the  fourth  century.  Next  to  this  come  the 


remarkable  Latin  plays  of  Roswitha,  the  Nun  of  Ganders- 
heirn,  in  the  tenth  century,  which,  though  crude  and 
•wanting  in  artistic  construction,  are  marked  by  a  good 


deal  of  dramatic  power  and  interest.  A  handsome  edition 
of  these  plays,  with  a  French  translation,  has  been  lately 
onblished,  entitled  Theatre  de  llolscilha,  Iteliyieuse  alle- 
naiule  du  X'  Stick.  Par  Charles  Mmjnin.  Paris,  1845. 
The  most  important  collections  of  English  Mysteries  and 
•\Iiracle-Plays  arc  those  known  as  the  Townley,  the  Ches- 
«er,  and  the"  Coventry  Plays.  The  first  of  these  collec- 
tions has  been  published  by  the  Surtees  Society,  and  the 
other  two  by  tho  Shakespeare  Society.  In  his  Introduc- 
tion to  the  Coventry  Mysteries,  the  editor,  Mr.  Halliwell 
quotes  the  following  passage  from  Dugdale's  Antiquities 
of  Wai-wicksiure  :  — 


454  NOTES. 

"  Before  tho  suppression  of  the  monasteries,  this  city 
was  very  famous  for  tho  pageants,  that  were  played 
therein,  upon  Corpus-Christ!  day;  which,  occasioning 
very  great  confluence  of  people  thither,  from  far  and  near, 
was  of  no  small  benefit  thereto;  which  pageants  being 
acted  with  mighty  state  ami  reverence  by  tin'  friars  of  this 
house,  hud  tlicateYs  for  the  several!  scenes,  very  large  and 
high,  placed  upon  wheels,  and  drawn  to  all  the  eminent 
parts  of  the  city,  for  tho  better  advantage  of  spectators: 
and  contain'd  the  story  of  the  New  Testament,  composed 
into  old  English  Rithmo,  as  nppeareth  bv  an  ancient  .MS. 
intituled  Ludag  Cbr/x>ra  Christi,  or  Lwlut  O'lirentria.  I 
have  been  told  by  some  old  people,  who  in  their  younger 
years  were  eyewitnesses  of  these  pageants  so  acted,  that 
tho  yearly  confluence  of  people  to  see  that  shew  was  ex- 
traordinary great,  and  yielded  no  small  advantage  to  thia 
citv." 

The  representation  of  religious  plavs  has  not  yet  been 
wholly  discontinued  by  the  Roman"  Church.  At  Obcr- 
Ammergau,  in  the  Tyrol,  a  grand  spectacle  of  this  kind 
is  exhibited  once  in  "ten  years.  A  verv  graphic  descrip- 
tion of  that  which  took  place  in  the  year  1;>JO,  is  given 
by  Miss  Anna  Mary  Howitt,  in  her  "  Art-Student  in 
Munich,"  Vol.  I.  Chap.  IV.  She  says:— 

"  We  had  como  expecting  to  feel  bur  souls  revolt  at  so 
material  a  representation  of  Christ,  as  any  representation 
of  him  we  naturally  imagined  must  be  in  a  peasant's 
Miracle-l'lay.  Yet  so  far,  strange  to  confess,  neither 
horror,  disgust,  nor  contempt  was  excited  in  our  minds. 
Such  an  earnest  solemnity  and  simplicity  breathed 
throughout  the  whole  of  the  performance,  that  to  me,  at 
least,  any  thing  like  anger,  or  a  perception  of  the  ludi- 
crous, would  have  seemed  more  irreverent  en  my  part 
than  was  this  simple,  childlike  rendering  of  tho  sublime 
Christian  tragedy.  We  felt  at  times  as  though  the  figures 
of  Cimabue's,  Giotto's,  and  Perngino's  pictures  had  become 
animated,  and  were  moving  before  us ;  there  was  the  same 
einiplo  arrangement  and  brilliant  color  of  drapery,— the 
same  earnest,  quiet  dignity  about  the  heads,  whilst  the 
entire  absence  of  all  theatrical  ell'ect  wonderfully  in- 
creased the  illusion.  There  were  scenes  and  groups  so 
extraordinarily  like  the  early  Italian  pictures,  that  you 
could  have  declared  they  "were  the  woiks  of  Giotto 
and  Perugino,  and  not  living  men  and  women,  had  not 
the  figures  moved  and  spoken,  and  the  breeze  .-.sirred  their 
richly  colored  drapery,  and  the  sun  cast  lorg,  moving 
shadows  behind  them  on  the  stage.  These  etTecta  of  sun- 


XGTKS.  455 

ihlno  and  shadow,  and  of  drapery  fluttered  by  the  wind 
were  very  striking  and  beautiful ;  one  could  imagine  hovf 
the  Greeks  must  have  availed  themselves  of  such  striking 
effects  in  their  theatres  open  to  the  sky." 

Mr.  Hayard  Taylor,  in  his  "  Eldorad"o,"  gives  a  descrip 
tion  of  a  Mystery  he  saw  performed  at  San  Lionel,  in 
Mexico.  See  Vol.  II.  Chap.  XI. 

"Against  the  wing-wall  of  the  Hacienda  del  Mayo, 
which  occupied  one  end  of  the  plaza,  was  raised  a  plat- 
form, on  which  stood  a  table  covered  with  scarlet  cloth. 
A  rude  bower  of  cane-leaves,  on  one  end  of  the  platform, 
represented  the  manger  of  Bethlehem;  while  a  cord, 
stretched  from  its  top  across  the  plaza  to  a  hole  in  the 
front  of  the  church,  bore  a  large  tinsel  star,  suspended  by 
«  hole  in  its  centre.  There  was  quite  a  crowd  in  the 
plaza,  and  very  soon  a  procession  appeared,  coming  up 
from  the  lower  part  of  the  village.  'Ihe  three  kings  took 
the  lead;  the  Virgin,  mounted  on  an  ass  that  gloried  in 
a  gilded  saddle  and  rose-besprinkled  mane  ana  tail,  fol- 
lowed them,  led  by  the  angel;  and  several  women,  with 
curious  masks  of  paper,  brought  up  the  rear.  Two  char- 
acters of  the  harlequin  sort — one  with  a  dog's  head  oc 
his  shoulders,  and  the  other  a  bald-headed  friar,  with  a 
huge  hat  hanging  on  his  back — plaved  all  sorts  of  antics 
for  the  diversion  of  the  crowd.  After  making  the  circuit 
of  the  plaza,  the  Virgin  was  taken  to  the  platform,  and 
entered  the  manger.  King  Herod  took  his  seat  at  the 
scarlet  table,  with  an  attendant  in  blue  coat  and  red  sash, 
whom  I  took  to  be  his  Prime  Minister.  The  three  kings 
remained  on  their  horses  in  front  of  the  church;  but  be- 
tween them  and  the  platform,  under  the  string  on  which 
the  star  was  to  slide,  walked  two  men  in  long  white  robes 
und  blue  hoods,  with  parchment  folios  in  their  hands. 
Thcr-e  were  the  Wise  Men  of  the  East,  as  one  might 
readily  know  from  their  solemn  air,  and  the  mysterious 
glances  which  they  cast  towards  all  quarters  of  tha 
Heaven  s. 

"  In  a  little  while,  a  company  of  women  on  the  plat- 
form, concealed  behind  a  curtain,  sang  an  angelic  chorus 
to  the  tune  of '  0  pescator  dell'onda.'  At  the  proper  mo- 
ment, the  Magi  turned  towards  the  platform,  followed  by 
the  st:ir,  to  which  a  string  was  conveniently  attached, 
that  it  might  be  slid  along  the  line.  The  three  kings  fol- 
lowed the  star  till  it  reached  the  manger,  when  they  dis- 
mounted, and  iiiquired  1'or  the  sovereign  whom  it  had  led 
them  to  visit.  They  were  invited  upon  the  platform,  and 
introduced  to  Herod,  aa  the  only  king:  this  did  not  seem 


456  NOTES. 

to  satisfy  them,  find,  after  nome  conversation,  they  n- 
tired.  By  this  time  the  star  had  receded  to  the  other  end 
of  the  line,  nnd  commenced  moving  forward  again,  they 
following.  The  angel  called  them  into  the  manger,  where, 
upon  their  knees,  thev  were  shown  a  small  wooden  box, 
supposed  to  contain  the  sacred  infant;  they  thnn  retired, 
and  the  star  brought  them  back  no  more.  After  this  de- 
parture, King  Herod  declared  himself  greatly  confused  by 
what  he  hud  witnessed,  nnd  was  very  much  afraid  tint 
newly  found  king  would  weaken  his  power.  Upon  con- 
sultation with  his  Prime  Minister,  the  Massacre  of  tho 
Innocents  was  decided  upon,  as  the  only  means  of  security, 

"  The  angel,  on  hearing  this,  gave  warning  to  the  Vir- 
ein,  who  quickly  got  down  from  the  platform,  mounted 
her  bespangled  donkey,  and  hurried  off.  Herod's  Prime 
Minister  directed  all  the  children  to  be  handed  up  for 
execution.  A  boy,  in  a  ragged  sarape,  was  caught  and 
thrust  forward;  the  Minister  took  him  by  the  heels  in 
spite  of  his  kicking,  and  held  his  head  on  the  tab?e.  The 
little  brother  and  sister  of  the  boy,  thinking  he  was  really 
to  be  decapitated,  veiled  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  !n  an 
agony  of  terror,  wnich  threw  the  crowd  into  a  roar  of 
laughter.  King  Herod  brought  down  his  sword  with  a 
whack  on  the  table,  and  the  Prime  Minister,  dipping  his 
brush  into  a  pot  of  white  paint  which  stood  before  him, 
made  a  flaring  cross  on  the  boy's  face.  Several  other 
boys  were  caught  and  served  likewise;  and,  finally,  the 
two  harlequins,  whose  kicks  and  straggles  nearly  shook 
down  the  platform.  The  procession  then  went  off  up  the 
hill,  followed  by  the  whole  population  of  the  village.  All 
the  evening  there  were  fandangos  in  the  me'son,  bonfires 
and  rockets  on  the  plaza,  ringing  of  bells,  and  high  ma>s 
in  the  church,  with  the  accompaniment  of  two  guitars, 
tinkling  to  lively  polkas." 

In  1852  there  was  a  representation  of  this  kind  by  Ger- 
mans in  Boston:  and  I  have  now  before  mo  the  copy  of  a 
play-bill,  announcing  the  performance,  on  Jnne  10,"lS52, 
in  Cincinnati,  of  the  "  Great  Biblico-Historical  Drama, 
the  Life  of  Jesus  Christ,"  with  the  characters  and  tht 
names  of  the  performers. 

Page  165.    THE  SCUIPTORIUM. 

A  most  interesting  volume  might  be  written  on  th« 
CaMigraphers  and  Chrysographers,  the  transcribers  and 
riluminators  of  manuscripts  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Thesa 
men  were  for  the  most  part  monks,  who  labored,  some- 
•Jmes  for  pleasure  and  sometimes  for  penance,  in  multi- 
ply iug  copies  of  the  classics  and  the  Scriptures. 


NOTES.  457 

"  Of  all  bodily  labors,  which  are  proper  for  us,"  says 
Cassiodorus,  the  old  Calabrian  monk,  "  that  of  copying 
books  has  always  been  more  to  my  taste  than  any  other. 
The  more  so,  as  in  this  exercise  the  mind  is  instructed  bv 
the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  it  is  a  kind  of 
liomily  to  the  others,  whom  these  books  may  reach.  It 
is  preaching  with  the  hand,  by  converting  the'  fingers  into 
tongues;  it  is  publishing  to  men  in  silence  the  words  of 
salvation;  in  fine,  it  is  fighting  against  the  demon  with 
pen  and  ink.  As  many  words  as  a  transcriber  writes,  so 
many  wounds  the  demon  receives.  In  a  word,  a  recluse, 
seated  in  his  chair  to  copy  books,  travels  into  different 
provinces,  without  moving  from  the  spot,  and  the  labor 
of  his  hands  is  felt  even  where  he  is  not." 

Nearly  every  monastery  was  provided  with  its  Scrip- 
torium. Nicolas  do  Clairvaux,  St.  Bernard's  secretary, 
in  one  of  his  letters  describes  his  cell,  which  he  calls 
Scriptoriolum,  where  he  copied  books.  And  Mabillon. 
in  his  Etudes  Mvnastiques,  says  that  in  his  time  were  still 
to  be  seen  at  Citeaux  "  many  of  those  little  cells,  where 
the  transcribers  and  bookbinders  worked." 

'Silvestrii's  PaUographie  Universdle  contains  a  vast 
number  of  fac-similes  of  the  most  beautiful  illuminated 
manuscripts  of  all  ages  and  all  countries ;  and  Montfaucon 
in  his  Palteographia  Grceca  gives  the  names  of  over  three 
hundred  callignipliers.  He  also  gives  an  account  of  the 
books  they  copied,  and  the  colophons,  with  which,  as 
with  a  satisfactory  flourish  of  the  pen,  they  closed  their 
long-continued  labors.  Many  of  these  are  very  curious; 
expressing  joy,  humility,  remorse;  entreating  the  reader's 
prayers  and  pardon  for  the  writer's  sins ;  and  sometimes 
pronouncing  a  malediction  on  any  one  who  should  steal 
the  book.  A  few  of  these  I  subjoin: — 

"  As  pilgrims  rejoice,  beholding  their  native  land,  so 
are  transcribers  made  glad,  beholding  the  end  of  a  book." 

"  Sweet  is  it  to  write  the  end  of  any  book." 

"  Ye  who  read,  pray  for  me,  who  have  written  this 
book,  the  humble  and  sinful  Theodulus." 

"  As  many  therefore  as  shall  read  this  book,  pardon  mo. 
1  beseech  you,  if  aught  I  have  erred  in  accent  acute  ana 
grave,  in  apostrophe,  in  breathing  soft  or  aspirate;  and 
may  God  save  you  all!  Amen." 

"If  any  thing  is  well,  praise  the  transcriber;  if  ill,  par- 
don his  unskill'ulness." 

"  Ye  who  read,  pray  for  me,  the  most  sinful  of  all  men, 
for  the  Lord's  sake." 

"  The  hand  that  has  written  this  book  shall  decay,  alas! 
*nd  become  dut>t,  ami  go  dowu  to  the  grave,  the  corruptei 


458  NOTES. 

of  all  bodies.  But  nil  ye  who  are  of  the  portion  of  Christ, 
pray  Unit  I  may  obtain  the  pardon  of  my  sins.  Again 
and  ngain  I  beseech  you  ••.  :-'i  hvirs,  brorln-r-;  ami  fathers, 
accept  my  miserable  &ni. .ni-ation,  O  holy  choir!  1  am 
called  John,  woo  is  mo  !  i  .  n  called  liiereiis,  or  Sacerios, 
in  name  only,  not  in  unction." 

"  Whoever  shall  carry  away  this  book,  without  pcrmis- 
lion  of  the  1'opo,  mav  he  incur  the  malediction  of  the 
Holy  Trinity,  of  the  Holy  Mother  of  God,  of  Saint  John 
the  Baptist,  of  the  one  hundred  and  eighteen  holy  Xiccno 
Fathers,  and  of  all  the  Saints;  the  fate  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah;  and  the  halter  of  Judas!  Anathema,  amen." 

"  Keep  safe,  O  Trinity,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
my  three  fingers,  with  which  I  have  written  this  "book." 

""  Mathusaias  Machir  transcribed  this  divinest  book  in 
toil,  infirmity,  find  dangers  many." 

"  Hacchius  Barbardoritu  and  Michael  Sophianus  wrote 
this  book  in  sport  and  laughter,  being  the  guests  of  their 
noble  imd  common  friend  Vincentius  Pinellus,  and  Petrus 
Nunnius,  a  most  learned  man." 

This  last  colophon,  Montfaucon  does  not  suffer  to  pass 
•without  reproof.  "  Other  calligraphers,"  he  remarks, 
"  demand  only  the  prayers  of  their  readers,  atr.l  the  par- 
don of  their  s'ins;  but  these  glory  in  their  wantonness." 

Page  175.     Drink  down  <<>  your  pay  ! 

One  of  the  canons  of  Archbishop  Ansclm,  promulgated 
at  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century,  ordains  "  that 
priests  go  not  to  drinking-bouts,  nor  drink  to  pegs."  In 
the  times  of  the  hard- drinking  Danes,  King  Edgar  or- 
dained that  "  pins  or  nails  should  be  fa.-tened  into  the 
drinking-cups  or  horns  at  stated  distances,  and  whosoever 
should  drink  beyond  those  marks  at  one  draught  should 
be  obnoxious  to  a  severe  punishment." 

Sharpc,  in  his  History  of  the  Kings  of  England,  says: 
"Our  ancestors  were  formerly  famous  for  compotationj 
their  liquor  was  ale,  and  one  method  of  amusing  them- 
selves in  this  way  was  with  the  ncg-tankard.  I  had 
lately  one  of  them  iy  my  hand.  Jt  had  on  the  inside  a 
row  "of  eight  pins,  one  "above  another,  from  top  to  bot- 
tom. It  held  two  quarts,  and  was  a  noble  piece  of  plate, 
80  that  there  was  a  gill  of  ale,  half  a  pint  Winchester 
measure,  between  eacli  peg.  The  law  was,  that  every 
person  that  drank  was  to  emptv  the  space  between  p:n 
anil  pin,  so  that  the  pins  were  so  many  measures  to  make 
the  company  nil  drink  alike,  and  to  swallow  the  same 
quantity  of  liquor.  This  was  n  pretty  sure  method  of 
making  nil  the  company  drunk,  especially  if  it  be  con- 
sidered that  lac  ruiu  was,"  that  whoever  onuik  &uoit  of  liil 


NOTES.  459 


pin,  OT  beyond  it,  was  obliged  to  drink  again,  and  even  as 
dee])  as  to  the  nnxt  pin." 

Page  177.     The  convent  of  St.  Gildns  de  Rhuys. 

Ab'ehml,  in  a  letter  to  his  friend  Philintus,  gives  a  sad 
picture  of  this  monastery.  "I  live,"  he  says,  "  in  a  bar- 
barous country,  the  language  of  which  I  do  not  under- 
stand; I  have  uo  conversation  but  with  the  rudest  people, 
my  walks  are  on  the  inaccessible  shore  of  a  sea,  Avhich  is 
perpetually  stormy,  my  monks  are  only  known  by  their 
dissoluteness,  and  living  without  any  rule  or  order,  could 
you  see  the  abby,  Philintus,  you  would  not  call  it  one. 
the  doors  and  walls  are  without  any  ornament,  except 
the  heads  of  wild  boars  and  hinds  feet,  which  are  nailed 
up  against  them,  and  the  hides  of  frightful  animals,  the 
cells  are  hung  with  the  skins  of  deer,  the  monks  have 
not  so  much  as  a  bell  to  wake  them,  the  cocks  and  dogs 


•apply  that  defect,  in  short,  they  pass  their  whole  days 
in  hunting;  would  to  heaven  tiiat  were  their  greatest 
fault!  or  that  their  pleasures  terminated  there!  I  en- 


deavour in  vain  to  recall  them  to  their  duty;  they  all 
combine  against  me,  and  I  only  expose  myself  to  continual 
vexations  and  dangers.  I  imagine  I  see  every  moment  a 
naked  sword  hang  over  my  head,  sometimes  they  sur- 
round me,  and  load  me  with  infinite  abuses;  sometimes 
they  abandon  me,  and  I  am  left  alone  to  rny  own  torment- 
ing thoughts.  I  make  it  my  endeavour  to  merit  by  my 
sufferings,  and  to  appease  an  angry  God.  sometimes  I 
grieve  for  the  loss  of  the  house  of  the  Paraclete,  and  wish 
to  see  it  again,  ah  Philintus,  does  not  the  love  of  Heloise 
still  burn  in  my  heart?  I  have  not  yet  triumphed  over 
that  unhappy  passion,  in  the  midst  of  my  retirement  I 
sigh,  I  weep,  I  pine,  I  speak  the  dear  name  Heloise,  and 
am  pleased  to  hear  the  sound." — Letters  of  the  Celebrated 
Aboard  tin/I  lldoise.  Translated  by  Mr.  John  Uughes. 
Gia.-gow,  1751. 

Page  190.      Were  it  not  for  my  magic  garters  and  staff. 

The  method  of  making  the  Magic  Garters  and  the 
Miigic  Staff  is  thus  laid  down  in  Les  Secrets  Merceilleua 
tlu  I'ctit  Albert,  a  French  translation  of  Alberti  Parvi  Lacii 
IMidlns  de  Mirabiitbus  Naturie  Arainis: — 

"  Gather  some  of  the  herb  called  mothcrwort,  when  the 
sun  is  entering  the  first  degree  of  the  sign  of  Capricorn; 
let  it  dry  a  little  in  the  shade,  and  make  some  garters  of 
the  skin  of  a  young  hare;  that  is  to  say,  having  cut  the 
ikin  of  the  hare  into  strips  two  inches  Wide,  double  them, 
sew  the  before-mentioned  herb  between,  and  wear  them 
»n  your  legs.  No  horse  can  long  keep  up  with  a  man  ou 
toot,  who  is  furnished  with  these  garters."— p.  128. 


M  Gather,  on  the  morrow  of  All  Saints,  a  strong  branch 
of  willow,  of  which  you  will  make  u  stair,  fashioned  to 
your  liking.  Hollow  it  out,  by  removing  the  pith  from 
within,  after  having  furnished  the  lower  end  with  an  iron 
ferule.  1'ut  into  the  bottom  of  the  staff  tlie  two  eyes  of 
a  young  wolf,  the  tongue  tiud  heart  of  :i  dog,  three"  green 
lizards,  and  the  hearts  of  three  swallows.  These  must 
all  be  dried  in  the  sun,  between  two  paper*,  having  been 
first  sprinkled  with  finely  pulverized  saltpetre.  Beside* 
all  these,  put  into  the  stuff  seven  leaves  of  vervain, 
gathered  on  the  eve  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  with  a  .-tune 
of  divers  colors,  which  you  will  find  in  the  nest  of  the 
lapwing,  and  stop  the  end  of  the  staff  with  a  pomel  of 
box,  or  of  any  other  material  you  please,  and  be  assured, 
that  this  stall'  will  guarantee  you  from  the  perils  and 
mishaps  which  too  often  befall  travellers,  either  from  rob- 
bers, wild  beasts,  mad  dogs,  or  venomous  animals.  It 
•will  also  procure  you  the  good- will  of  those  with  whom 
you  lodge." — p.  130. 

Page  206.     SaiiU  Elnuft  start. 

So  the  Italian  sailors  call  the  phosphorescent  gleams 
that  sometimes  play  about  the  masts  and  rigging  of 
ships. 

Page  208.  THE  SCHOOL  OF  SALEKNO. 

For  a  history  of  the  celebrated  schools  of  Salerno  and 
Montc-Cassino,  the  reader  is  referred  to  Sir  Alexander 
Croke's  Introduction  to  the  Reijimtn  SanitalU  S>ikrnita» 
num ;  and  to  Kurt  Sprengel's  (Jescliichte  der  Arzneikundt, 
I.  463,  or  Jourdan's  French  translation  of  it,  Ilisloire  de 
la  Mededne,  II.  354. 

THE  Soxo  OF  HIAWATHA. — This  Indian  Edda— if  I 
may  so  call  it — is  founded  on  a  tradition  prevalent  among 
the' North  American  Indians,  of  a  personage  of  miracu- 
lous birth,  who  was  sent  among  them  to  clear  their  rivers, 
forests,  and  fishing-grounds,  and  to  teach  them  the  arts 
of  peace.  He  was  known  among  different  tribes  by  the 
several  names  of  Michabou,  Chiabo,  Manaboio,  Tarenya- 
wagou,  and  Hiawatha.  Mr.  Schoolcraft  gives  an  account 
of  him  in  his  Alyic  Jttsewhes,  Vol.  I.  p.  134;  and  in  his 
History,  Candtliun,  and  Protptcis  of  the  Indian  Tribtt  of 
tlit  United  $t<it>>s,  Part.  HI.  p.  314,  may  bo  found  the  Iro- 
quois  form  of  the  tradition,  derived  from  the  verbal  nar 
rations  of  an  Unondaga  chief. 

Into  this  old  tradition  I  have  woven  other  curious  In- 
dian legends,  drawn  chiefly  from  the  various  and  valu- 
»blo  writings  of  Mr.  Schoolcraft,  to  whom  the  literary 
world  is  greatly  indebted  ll*  his  indefatigable  znal  iu  res* 


NOTES.  461 

etdng  from  oblivion  so  much  of  the  legendary  lore  of  the 
Indians. 

The  scene  of  the  poem  is  among  the  Ojibways  on  the 
southern  shore  of  Lake  Superior,  in  the  region  between 
the  Pictured  Rocks  and  the  Grand  Sable. 

Page  232.     In  the  Vale  of  Tawasentha. 

This  valley,  now  called  Norman's  Kill,  is  in  Albany 
County,  New  York. 

Pago  235.     On  ike  Mountains  of  the  Prairie. 

Mr.  Catlin,  in  his  LeUers  and  Notes  on  the  Afannert, 
Cusbnns,  ami  Coiulition  of  tlie  North  American  Indiana, 
Vol.  II.  p.  160,  gives  an  interesting  account  of  the  Gateau 
dei  Prairies,  and  the  Red  Pipe-stone  Quarry.  He  says : 

"  Here  (according  to  their  traditions)  happened  the 
mysterious  birth  of  the  red  pipe,  which  has  blown  its 
fumes  of  peace  and  war  to  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
continent;  which  has  visited  every  warrior,  and  passed 
through  its  reddened  stem  the  irrevocable  oath  of  war  and 
desolation.  And  here,  also,  the  peace-breathing  calurcet 
•was  born,  and  fringed  with  the  eagle's  quills,  which  has 
shed  its  thrilling  fumes  over, the  land,  and  soothed  the  fury 
of  the  relentless  savage. 

"  The  Great  Spirit  at  an  ancient  period  here  called  the 
Indian  nations  together,  and,  standing  on  the  precipice  of 
the  red  pipe-stone  rock,  broke  from  its  wall  a  piece,  and 
made  a  huge  pipe  by  turning  it  in  his  hand,  which  he 
smoked  over  them,  and  to  the  North,  the  South,  the  East, 
and  the  West,  and  told  them  that  this  stone  was  red, — 
that  it  was  their  flesh,— that  they  must  use  it  for  their 
pipes  of  peace, — that  it  belonged  to  them  all,  and  that 
the  war-club  and  scalping-knite  must  not  be  raised  on 
its  ground.  At  the  last  whiff  of  his  pipe  his  head  went 
into  a  great  cloud,  and  the  whole  surface  of  the  rock  for 
several  miles  was  melted  and  gla/ed;  two  great  ovens 
were  opened  beneath,  and  two  women  (guardian  spirits 
of  the  place)  entered  them  in  a  blaze  of  fire;  and  they 
arc  heard  there  yet  ( Tso-mec-cos-tee  and  Tso-me-cos-te- 
won-dee),  answering  to  the  invocations  of  the  high- 
priests  or  medicine-men,  who  consult  them  when  they 
are  visitors  to  this  sacred  place." 

Page  241.     JJark  »/OM,  Bear  !  you  are  a  coward. 

This  anecdote  is  from  Heckewelder.  In  his  account  of 
the  Indian  Nations,  he  describes  an  Indian  hunter  as  ad 
dressing  a  bear  in  nearly  these  words.  "I  was  present," 
he  says,  "at  the  delivery  of  this  curious  invective;  whea 
the  banter  had  despatched  the  bear,  I  asked  him  how  he 
thought  that  poor  animal  could  understand  what  he  said 
to  it  i  '  O,'  said  he  iu  answer, '  the  bear  understood  me 


462  XOTKB. 

Tory  well;  did  yon  not  observe  how  nskfmtd  he  .'ooked 
while  I  was  upbraiding  him? '  "—  Tranmctiont  of  At 
American  PhihixyJiicnl  BHtdf,  Vol.  I.  p.  240. 

Pace  2 oO.     Hitsli  !  the.  Xaktd  Hear  will  <jtt  theel 

llivke  welder,  in  a  letter  piiblisheil  in  the  Trmitatlifmt 
of  the  American  Phil»soj>hical  &>ciety,  Vol.  IV.  p.  260, 
•peaks  of  tliis  tradition  aa  prevalent  among  the  MohicaL* 
nn.i  De'.awarcs. 

"  Their  reports,"  lie  says,  "run  thus:  that  among  all 
animals  that  hud  been  formerly  in  this  country,  this  WM 
the  most  ferocious;  that  it  was  much  larger  than  the 
largest  of  the  common  bears,  and  remarkably  long-bodied; 
all  over,  (except  a  spot  of  hair  on  its  back  ot  a  white 
color,)  naked 

"The  history  of  this  animal  used  to  be  a  subject  of 
conversation  among  the  Indians,  especially  when  in  the 
woods  a  hunting.  I  have  also  heard  them  say  to  their 
children  when  crying:  'Hush!  the  naked  bear" will  hear 
you,  be  upon  you,  and  devour  you.'  " 

Page  201.    "  Where  die.  Falls  of  Minnehnhn,  <fr. 

"  The  scenery  about  Fort  Snelling  is  rich  in  beauty. 
The  Falls  of  St.  Anthony  are  familiar  to  travellers,  and 
to  readers  of  Indian  sketches,  lietween  tl  e  fort  and 
these  falls  are  the  '  Little  Falls,'  forty  feet  in  height,  on  a 
stream  that  empties  into  the  MfattMppL  The  Indian* 
called  them  Mine-hah-hah,  or  'laughing  waters.'  "—Mrs. 
Eastman's  Dacotuh,  or  Leyetuls  <>/"  the  ifiinus,  lutrod.  p.  ii. 

Page  300.     Kami  Hills  of  the  fiego*  WmQoo. 

A  description  of  the  Grand  SuMe,  or  great  sand  dunes 
of  Lake  Superior,  is  given  in  Foster  and  Whitney's  Re- 
port on  the  deoloay  of  tiie  Luke  Superior  J^uid  District 
Fart  11.  p.m. 

"  The  Grand  Sable  possesses  a  scenic  interest  littld 
inferior  to  that  of  the  Pictured  Rocks.  The  exploroi 
jia  —  es  abruptly  from  a  coast  of  consolidated  sand  to  oiu 
of  1'ioso  materials;  and  although  in  the  one  i-a.-e  tl.i 
rlili's  are  less  precipitous,  yet  in  the  other  they  attain  i 
higher  altitude.  He  sees  before  him  a  long  reach  ol 
Ci>u>t,  resembling  a  vast  sand-bank,  more  than  three  hun 
drcd  and  fifty  feet  in  height,  withou*  a  trace  of  vegetation 
Ascending  to  the  top,  rounded  hill«vks  nf  blown  sand  an 
observed,' with  occasional  clumps  of  trees,  standing  oul 
-  in  tlio  desert." 

Page  3<JG.   Onaicay  !  Awake,  belored! 

Tii.-  oriyinai  of  this  song  may  be  found  in  Littell's  Lit 
i»gAye,  Vol.  XXV.  : 

Tuge  .S10.      Or  the  lied  .Savin   flontinii,   flying. 

Th«  tuuciful  traditiou  of  the  lied  Swim  may  be  found 


NOTES.  463 

to  Schoolerafl's  Algic  Researches,  \M.  n.  p.  9.  Three 
brothers  were  hunting  on  a  wager  to  sea  who  would  bring 
home  the  first  game. 

"  They  were  to  shoot  no  other  animal,"  so  the  legend 
§ays,  "but  such  as  each  was  in  the  habit  of  killing. 
They  set  out  different  ways;  Odjibwa,  the  youngest,  had 
not  gone  far  before  he  saw  a  bear,  an  aninial  lie  was  not 
to  kill,  by  the  agreement.  Ho  followed  him  close,  and 
drove  an  arrow  through  him,  which  brought  him  to  the 
ground.  Although  contrary  to  the  bet,  he  immediately 
commenced  skinning  him,  when  suddenly  something  red 
tinged  all  the  air  around  him.  He  rubbed  his  eyes,  think- 
ing he  was  perhaps  deceived ;  but  without  effect,  for  the 
red  hue  continued.  At  length  ho  heard  a  strange  noise 
at  a  distance.  It  first  appeared  like  a  human  voice,  but 
after  following  the  sound  for  some  distance,  he  reached 
tho  shores  of  a  lake,  and  soon  saw  the  object  he  was  look- 
ing for.  At  a  distance  out  in  the  hike  sat  a  most,  beautiful 
Red  Swan,  whose  plumage  glittered  in  the  sun,  and  who 
would  now  and  then  make  the  same  noise  he  had  heard. 
He  was  within  long  bow-shot,  and,  pulling  tho  arrow  from 
the  bowstring  up  to  his  ear,  took  deliberate  aim  and  shot. 
The  arrow  took  no  eflect;  and  he  shot  and  shot  again  till 
his  quiver  was  empty.  Still  the  swan  remained,  moving 
round  and  round,  stretching  its  long  neck  and  dipping  its 
bill  into  the  water,  as  if  heedless  of  the  arrows  shot  at  it. 
Odjibwa  ran  home,  and  got  all  his  own  and  his  brother's 
Arrows,  and  shot  them  all  away.  He  then  stood  and 
gazed  at  tho  beautiful  bird.  While  standing,  he  remem- 
bered his  brother's  saying  that  in  their  deceased  father's 
medicine-sack  were  three  magic  arrows.  Oil  he  started, 
his  anxiety  to  kill  the  swan  overcoming  all  scruples.  At 
any  other  time,  he  would  have  deemed  it  sacrilege  toopeu 
his  father's  medicine-suck;  but  now  he  hastily  seized  the 
three  arrows  and  ran  back,  leaving  the  other 'contents  of 
the  sack  scattered  over  the  lodge.  The  swan  was  still 
there.  He  shot  the  first  arrow  with  great  precision,  and 
came  very  near  to  it.  The  second  came  still  closer;  as 
he  took  tiie  last  arrow,  he  felt  his  arm  firmer,  anu,  draw- 
ing it  up  with  vigor,  saw  it  pass  through  the  neck  of  the 
swan  a  Httlc  above  the  breast.  Still  it  did  not  prevent 
the  bird  from  Hying  off,  which  it  did,  however,  at  first 
Bl'iwly,  flapping  "its  wings  and  rising  gradually  into  the 
air,  and  then  living  oil  toward  the  sinking  of  the  sun." — 
pp.  10-12. 

I'agu  !J  18.      \VJien  I  think  of  my  beloved. 

The  original  of  this  song  may  be  found  in  One6ta 
4-  •* 


464  NOTES, 

Page  320.     Sing  the  mysteries  of  Mrmdnmin. 

The  Indians  hold  the  maize,  or  Indian  corn,  in  great 
veneration.  "  They  esteem  it  BO  important  and  divine 
a  grain,"  says  Schoolcraft,  "that  their  story-tellers 
invented  various  tales,  in  which  this  idea  is  symbolized 
under  the  form  of  a  special  gift  from  tho  Great  Spirit. 
The  Odjibwa-Algonquins,  who  call  it  Mon-da-min,  that 
is,  the  Spirit's  grain  or  berry,  have  a  pretty  story  of  this 
kind,  in  which  the  stalk  in  full  tassel  is  represented  as 
descending  from  the  sky,  under  the  guise  of  a  handsome 
youth,  in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  a  young  man  at  his 
Fast  of  virility,  or  coming  to  manhood*. 

"  It  is  well  known  that  corn-planting,  and  corn-gather- 
ing, at  least  among  all  the  still  uncolonized  tribes,  are  left 
entirely  to  tho  females  and  children,  and  a  few  superan- 
nuated old  men.  It  is  not  generally  known,  perhaps,  that 
this  labor  is  not  compulsory,  and  that  it  is  assumed  by 
the  females  as  a  just  equivalent,  in  their  view,  for  the 
onerous  and  continuous  labor  of  the  other  sex,  in  provid- 
ing meats,  and  skins  for  clothing,  by  the  chase,  and  in 
defending  their  villages  against  their* enemies,  and  keep- 
ing intruders  off  their  territories.  A  good  Indian  house- 
wife deems  this  a  part  of  her  prerogative,  and  prides  her- 
self to  have  a  store  of  corn  to  exercise  her  hospitality,  or 
duly  honor  her  husband's  hospitality,  in  the  entertain- 
ment of  the  lodge  guests." — One6la,  p".  82. 

Page  321.     Titus  the  fields  shall  be  more  fruitful 


A  singular  proof  of  this  belief,  in  both  sexes,  of  the 
sterious  influence  of  the  steps  of  a  woman  on  the 
vegetable  and  insect  creation,  is  found  in  an  ancient  cus- 


torn, which  was  related  to  me,  respecting  corn-planting. 
It  was  the  practice  of  the  hunter's  wife,  when  the  field 
of  corn  had  been  planted,  to  choose  the  first  dark  or  over- 
clouded evening  to  perform  a  secret  circuit,  tans  hnbile- 
ment,  around  the  field.  .For  this  purpose  she  slipped  out 
of  the  lodge  in  the  evening,  unobserved,  to  some  obscure 
nook,  where  she  completely  disrobed.  Then,  taking  het 
matchecota,  or  principal  garment,  in  one  haud,  she 
dragged  it  around  tho  field.  This  was  thought  to  insure 
&  prolific  crop,  mid  to  prevent  the  assaults  of  insects  and 
worms  upon  tho  grain.  It  was  supposed  they  could  not 
creep  over  the  charmed  line." —  Onedta,  p.  S3. 

Page  324.      WiA  his  prisoner-string  he  bvundhirn. 

"liiese  cords,"  says  .Mr.  Tanner,  "are  made  of  the 
bark  of  the  elm-tree,  by  boiling  and  then  immersing  it  in 

cold  water The  leader  of  a  war  party  commonly 

tarries  several  fastened  about  his  waist,  aiid  if,  in  the 
eourse  of  the  fight,  any  one  of  his  young  men  takes  a 


NOTES.  465 

prisoner,  it  is  his  duty  to  bring  him  immediately  to  the 
chief,  to  be  tied,  and  the  latter  is  responsible  for  his  safe 
keeping," — Narrative  of  Captivity  and  Adventures,  p.  412. 

Page  325.     Wapemin,  the  thief  of  corn-fields, 
Paunosaid,  the  skuUcing  robber. 

"  If  one  of  the  young  female  huskers  finds  a  red  ear  of 
corn,  it  is  typical  of  a  brave  admirer,  and  is  regarded  aa 
a  fitting  present  to  some  young  warrior.  But  if  the  ear 
be  crooked,  and  tapering  to  a  point,  no  matter  what  color, 
the  whole  circle  is  set  in  a  roar,  and  wa-ge-min  is  the  word 
shouted  aloud.  It  is  the  symbol  of  a  thief  in  the  corn- 
Held.  It  is  considered  as  the  image  of  an  old  man  stoop- 
ing as  he  enters  the  lot.  Had  the  chisel  of  Praxiteles 
been  employed  to  produce  this  image,  it  could  not  more 
vividly  bring  to  the  minds  of  the  merry  group  the  idea 
of  a  pilferer  of  their  favorite  mondamin 

"  The  literal  meaning  of  the  term  is,  a  mass,  or  crooked 
ear  of  grain;  but  the  ear  of  corn  so  called  is  a  conven- 
tional type  of  a  little  old  man  pilfering  ears  of  corn  in  a 
corn-field.  It  is  in  this  manner  that  a  single  word  or 
term,  in  these  curious  languages,  becomes  the  fruitful 
parent  of  many  ideas.  And  we  can  thus  perceive  why 
it  is  that  the  word  wagemin  is  alone  competent  to  excite 
meniment  in  the  husking  circle. 

"  This  term  is  taken  as  the  basis  of  the  cereal  chorus, 
or  corn  song,  as  sung  by  the  Northern  Algonquin  tribes 
It  is  coupled  with  the  phrase  Paimosaid, — a  permutative 
form  of  the  Indian  substantive,  made  from  the  verb  pim- 
o-ta,  to  walk.  Its  literal  meaning  is,  he  who  walks,  or  th« 
walker ;  but  the  ideas  conveyed  by  it  are,  he  who  walks 
by  night  to  pilfer  corn.  It  offers,  therefore,  a  kind  of 
parallelism  in  expression  to  the  preceding  term." — One- 
fa (.p.  254. 

Page  339.    Pugcua.ing,  vnth  thirteen  pieces. 

This  Game  of  the  Bowl  is  the  principal  game  of  hazard 
among  the  Northern  tribes  of  Indians.  Sir.  Schoolcraft 
gives  a  particular  account  of  it  in  Onedta,  p.  85.  "  This 
game,"  he  says,  "  is  very  fascinating  to  some  portions  of 
the  Indians.  They  stake  at  it  their  ornaments,  weapons, 
clothing,  canoes,  horses,  every  thing  in  fact  they  possess; 
and  have  been  known,  it  is  said,  to  set  up  their  wives  and 
children,  and  even  to  forfeit  their  own  liberty.  Of  such 
desperate  stakes  I  have  seen  no  examples,  nor  do  I  think 
the  game  itself  in  common  use.  It  is  rather  confined  to 
certain  persons,  who  hold  the  relative  rank  of  gamblers 
in  Indian  society. — men  who  are  not  noted  as  hunters  or 
warriors,  or  steady  providers  for  their  families.  Among 
these  are  persoua  who  bear  the  term  of  le 
VOL.  n.  30 


466  NOTES. 

that  is,  wanderers  about  the  country,  braggadocios,  or 
fops.  It  can  hardly  bo  classed  with*  the  popular  games 
ofamusement,  by  which  skill  and  dexterity  are  acquired. 
I  have  generally  found  the  chiefs  and  graver  men  of  the 
tribes,  who  encouraged  tho  young  men  to  play  ball,  and 
are  sure  to  be  present  at  the  customary  sport-,  to  witness, 
and  sanction,  and  applaud  them,  speak  ligltfly  and  dig 
paragingly  of  this  game  of  hazard.  Yet  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  some  of  the  chiefs,  distinguished  in  wnr  and 
the  chase,  at  the  West,  can  be  referred  to  as  lending  th«ir 
example  to  its  fascinating  power." 

See  also  his  History,  Condition,  and  Prospect*  of  the 
Indian  Tribes,  Part  II.  p.  72. 

Page  862.     To  the  Pictured  Rocks  of  tandstoiie. 

The  reader  will  find  a  long  description  of  the  Pictured 
Rocks,  in  Foster  and  Whitney's  Report  on  tiie  Geology  of 
the  Lake  Superior  Land  District,  Part  II.  p.  124.  From 
this  I  make  the  following  extract : — 

"  The  Pictured  Rocks  may  be  described,  in  general 
terms,  as  a  series  of  sandstone  bluffs  extending  along  tho 
shore  of  Lake  Superior  for  about  five  miles,  and  rising,  in 
most  places,  vertically  from  the  water,  without  any  beach 
at  the  base,  to  a  height  varying  from  fifty  to  nearly  two 
hundred  feet.  Were  th<5y  simply  a  line"  of  cliffs,  thev 
might  not,  BO  far  as  relates  to  height  or  extent,  be  worthv 
of  a  rank  among  great  natural  curiosities,  although  such 
an  assemblage  of  rocky  strata,  washed  by  the  waves  of 
the  great  lake,  would  not,  under  any  circumstances,  be 
destitute  of  grandeur.  To  the  voyager,  coasting  along 
their  base  innis  frail  canoe,  they  would,  at  all  times,  be 
an  object  of  dread;  the  recoil  of  the  surf,  the  rock-bound 
coast,  affording,  for  miles,  no  place  of  refuge, — the  lower- 
ing sky,  the  rising  wind, — all  these  would  excite  his  ap- 
prehension, and  induce  him  to  ply  a  vigorous  oar  until 
the  dreaded  wall  was  passed.  But  in  the  Pictured  Rocks 
there  are  two  features  which  communicate  to  the  scenery 
a  wonderful  and  almost  unique  character.  These  are, 
first,  the  curious  manner  in  which  the  clifls  have  been 
excavated,  and  worn  away  by  the  action  of  the  lake, 
which,  for  centuries,  has  dashed  an  ocean-like  surf 
against  their  base;  and,  second,  tho  equally  curious 
manner  in  which  large  portions  of  the  surface  have  been 
colored  by  bauds  of  brilhaut  hues. 

"  It  is  from  the  latter  circumstance  that  the  name,  by 
which  these  cliffs  are  known  to  the  American  traveller, 
is  derived;  while  that  applied  to  them  by  the  French 
voyageurs  (' Les  Portails')  U  derived  from  the  former, 
iiid  by  1'ar  iho  most  striking  poculiuiity. 


NOTES.  467 

"  The  term  Pictured  Rocks  has  been  in  use  for  a  great 
iengt>  if  time;  but  when  it  was  first  applied,  we  nave 
been  unable  to  discover.  It  would  seem  that  tho  first 
travellers  were  more  impressed  with  the  novel  and  strik 
ing  distribution  of  colors  on  the  surface,  than  with  the 
astonishing  variety  of  form  into  which  the  cliffs  thorn 
selves  have  been  worn 

"  Our  voyageurs  had  many  legends  to  relate  of  thft 
pranks  of  the  'Menni-bojau'm  these  caverns,  and,  in  answer 
to  our  inquiries,  seemed  disposed  to  fabricate  stories, 
without  end,  of  the  achievements  of  this  Indian  deity." 

Page  378.     Totoard  the  sup  hit  hands  were  lifted. 

In  this  manner,  and  with  such  salutations,  was  Father1 
Harquette  received  by  the  Illinois.  See  his  Voyngei  et 
Decouvertet,  Section  V. 


THE    END. 


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